I AM, I AM NOT, I AM Part I

Published on November 2016 | Categories: Documents | Downloads: 63 | Comments: 0 | Views: 874
of 139
Download PDF   Embed   Report

Based on a true life story of a spiritual aspirant who is introduced to the Avatar of the 20th century "MEHER BABA", and his spiritual adventures during the process of involution.

Comments

Content

Real happiness lies in making others happy
Avatar Meher Baba

I AM
I AM NOT
I AM
A true spiritual journey in modern times..........
Author: Raj Salvi

First printed in September 2011
By Rucha Systems,Nashik,India

For any information on this book
please contact the author Raj Salvi
at email: [email protected]

No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or
introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form,
or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying,
recording or otherwise) without the prior written
permission of the author. Any person who does any
unauthorised act in relation to this publication may be liable to
criminal prosecution and civil claims for damages.

Canada Office:
Salvi Business Group Inc.
#2-6573 Humphries Court
BURNABY. B.C. –V3N 4K9
CANADA
Copyright @ 2011 Raj Salvi
All rights reserved with Author Raj Salvi

I have come not to teach, but to awaken
I am the ancient one.
I belong to no religion.
Every religion belongs to me.
My own personal religion is
of my being the ancient infinite one &
the religion I teach to all is of love of God.
This love can be practiced by anyone,
high, low, rich, poor & every one
of every cast & creed can love God.

-Meher Baba

About the Author
Raj Salvi is a Canadian citizen residing in
Burnaby, a suburb of Vancouver, Canada in
British Columbia. He is a Metallurgical
Engineer from IIT, Powai, Mumbai and a registered Professional
Engineer (P. Eng.) in British Columbia, Canada. He also has a
Masters in Metals and Materials Engineering from the
University of British Columbia, Canada
He immigrated to Canada in 1989. He has worked both in
Canada and the US in the foundry industry. He started his
own business, Salvi Business Group Inc, importing castings
from India for US and Canadian markets.
During the course of business travel in India he was fortunate
to meet many Perfect Masters (Sadgurus). He had a unique
spiritual experience on October 10, 2001 during which his hand
began to write on its own, messages from Avatar Meher Baba
(www.avatarmeherbaba.org). The process of automatic writing
or auto writing, as it is commonly referred to, has continued to
date since October 10, 2001. Teetering on the border of alcoholism,
just one message from Avatar Meher Baba to give up alcohol
was enough to take the chip of alcoholism from his being. Raj
has not had a drop of alcohol since the evening of October 10,
2001. More than 12,000 pages have been written through auto
writing with messages from Avatar Meher Baba for many people
who have asked for answers through auto writing. Raj does the
auto writing free of charge – it is a service he provides because of
his profound love for God.
The book I AM, I AM NOT, I AM contains his personal
experiences of his journey towards God-realization. These
spiritual experiences continue to manifest themselves in his
daily life even today.....

Preface
The purpose of this book is to show a glimpse into how life
is to be lived in a spiritual manner. Some outcomes may seem
outrageous; however they all have a lesson and a purpose.
These aspects are beyond the intellect of the mind to
understand. The sole goal of spiritual living is to ensure that at
all times our actions do not hurt someone and are constantly
directed towards helping others become happy.
It is not easy as our Ego or our individual existence
sometimes seems at jeopardy. Life itself is an experience and
these occasions are tests put in our path by God to check if we
follow at all times the principle of making others happy. Some
are simple, others require complete surrender. The Guru who
comes in the final stage of these experiences, also tests his
student to be completely certain that he is ready to accept
complete surrender of his Ego to the Guru. Once the Guru
accepts his student, he puts him on the Path to God and the
Avatar (God in Human form) who finally hands over the
aspirant to that Formless Creator forever (Moksha).
This book has been written with a view to give the reader a
glimpse of my personal journey on the Path to God. In putting
this book together many people have contributed directly and
indirectly to bringing it to the reader. I would like to offer special
thanks to Dr. Stephen Ogden, Professor of English, Simon Fraser
University, Burnaby, Canada for editing the book, to my cousin
Ramkrishna Salvi for preparing the layout of the book and to
my wife, Rashmita and my daughter, Mayura who helped in
typing the original writings.
I wish the reader to absorb the essence of these experiences
and take whatever principles of spirituality they offer.

One who lives for himself is truly dead and one
who dies for God is truly alive.
-Avatar Meher Baba

CONTENTS
Chapter 1

Cheating Death Three Times

Chapter 2

Real Happiness Lies in Making Others Happy

Chapter 3

Live Less For Yourself And More For Others

Chapter 4

A New Birth

Chapter 5

Marriages Are Made In Heaven

Chapter 6

You And I Are Not We But One

Chapter 7

Guru Meets His Disciple

Chapter 8

Dada’s Texas Letter

Chapter 9

Malang Baba Will Meet You!

Chapter 10 Total Obedience
Chapter 11 Sister Act
Chapter 12 Three Buses
Chapter 13 Go Live Like A King
Chapter 14 Implicit Faith
Chapter 15 How Is Rashmi In London?
Chapter 16 Abdul Rehman Baba’s Invitation
Chapter 17

This Honor Was For You

Chapter 18 He Is Allah’s Angel
Chapter 19 You Are My Son
Chapter 20 Divine Miracles
Chapter 21 Avatar Meher Baba Is God
Chapter 22 Of All Games...
Chapter 23 Manifestation Of Miracles
Chapter 24 Aspects of Spiritual Life

10

I am.. I am not.. I am

Raj Salvi 11

Introduction

What I am sharing with you is not my memoirs, but
my journey towards finding God. I know it sounds
very confusing; however the fact is that God was
preparing me for something right from my childhood.
The journey involved sacrifices and acceptances and
complete faith in God. While I was living through
these incidences, I was totally unaware then but
which I now recognize them for what they were –
tests. He gave me tests – some that were simple while
others that were not.
The journey kept moving me from one small town
to another, from one school to another, from one friend
to another. I was uprooted from one location to
another due to my father, who was a government
official and his job required that he be transferred
from one place to another. I remember that my early
childhood up to the age of six was comfortable. I
grew up in district places which had rural
surroundings and life was simple. Dad would take
me hunting for wild boars and my days passed in
simple games like marbles and spinning a car tire
around the house. I have happy memories of those

12

I am.. I am not.. I am
days. My elder brother was placed in a boarding school so as
not to disrupt his studies while my father was transferred from
one place to another. I lived with my parents and spent more
time with my mother as she was always at home.
I developed a normal deep attachment towards my mother.
My father used to tour, sometimes for days together, but
whenever he was around, it was fun. We moved to Bombay,
now Mumbai, in 1958. A new phase started in my life where the
challenges increased in magnitude. Life totally changed when
my mother was initially diagnosed with depression and later
schizophrenia, soon after my sister was born in 1960. Post
partum depression probably caused this condition. My parents
divorced when I was in my teens and then life got really difficult.
I never blamed my parents– I learnt to accept every situation for
what it was – a test, a challenge to be overcome. All through
those years I knew that I was not alone. I knew that there’s a
force, whom we may call God, and He was looking out for me,
looking after me, providing everything when needed.
Education was mostly completed in Bombay, from grade 3 to
Secondary School and then Mumbai University and finally
Bachelor of Metallurgical Technology from the Indian Institute
of Technology, Mumbai. I married in 1979 and took on the
responsibility of a family man. Usually the journey of the soul,
through self-realization (that I am not this body) and finally
God realization (that we are all part of the universal whole)
requires total detachment from all beings and things. I guess
God made an exception in my case - my family is still with me,
my wife, daughter, and son – this journey of returning to God

Raj Salvi 13
Consciousness involves total detachment from all beings and
things. That includes even your immediate near and dear ones.
It involves seeing all as One and yours.
In this journey, I met a Perfect Master. It is believed that the
Perfect Master or Guru finds you when you are ready to take the
leap out of this material or gross existence towards God
realization. I am truly blessed that my Guru found me and guided
me towards God realization. It was as simple as that. This
journey started when my Ego (I Am) was at its highest, then
slowly the Ego was crushed by the tests and challenges that life
threw at me to make me realize that I am not just this body.
Finally with the help of the Perfect Master the remnants of my
ego fell away – the veil was removed – and my goal in life became
clear. I had moved into the realm of God consciousness. The
episodes that I am sharing are some of the milestones that
dotted my journey from Guru to Avatar or the Messiah.
This journey involved the maximizing of the ego (I Am) and
then crushing it, extinguishing until just a few traces remained
(I Am Not) and ultimately evaporating the final remnants of the
Ego thereby transforming human consciousness to God
Consciousness (I Am Everything) as the final goal of life.

True love is no game of the fainthearted and the weak; it is born of
strength and understanding.

14

I am.. I am not.. I am

1

CHAPTER

Cheating Death
Three Times
I was born in Jalgaon, a city in the state of Maharashtra,
India on October 31, 1950 at 1:55 am. However the clerk who
was on morning duty at the hospital entered my birth date as
being “born last night” therefore October 30th. This became my
official date of birth.
My father, a Government officer, used to be transferred from
city to city – that was the nature of his job. I remember moving
from Nasik, to Malegaon and then to Aurangabad. I was now
six years old.
We moved into a huge government bungalow – a remnant
from the British Raj. I was in kindergarten at the Little Flower
High School. The daily routine started around 10:00 a.m. when
my brother, who was eight years old and I would be dropped off
at school in a horse carriage called “tonga”. Around 12:00 noon,
our lunch was brought by my father’s peon (a perk that is enjoyed
by high ranking government officials in India). The peon would
wait until school ended at 2:00 pm and then take us back on a

Raj Salvi 15
bicycle. I would sit on the bar that connected the seat and the
handlebar while my brother sat pillion.
On a particular day, as we were returning home from school,
the routine was disturbed.
Yusuf, our peon1 said: “Move ahead, Baba2? I need a little
more space to peddle better.”
I refused to oblige therefore he pushed me a little towards
the handlebar. The unexpected shove made me lose my balance
and my left foot got trapped in the front wheel of the bicycle. At
the very same moment, Yusuf reached the top of the steep slope
that led to our home. The bicycle gathered momentum. I howled
in pain but Yusuf had no clue to the real reason why I was
yelling. He thought I was angry because he had pushed me.
Finally the slope ended and ironically the bicycle came to a stop
in front of the Civil Hospital which was on the way to our home.
My foot was mangled and the centre bar of the front wheel was
embedded deep into my ankle. Yusuf carried me quickly into
the hospital scared not only at the sight of the blood but of the
consequences of the accident.
Seeing the gravity of the situation, the doctor on call, quickly
injected a dose of Tetanus Toxoid Serum to prevent further
infection. The doctor did not have access to an X-ray machine,
therefore he cleaned and dressed the wound and sent us home.
“What happened?” my mother queried angrily of Yusuf.
She was waiting in the veranda, anxious at the delay and seeing
1

Colloquial term used for a person with little authority often assigned
unskilled tasks
2
A general term used in India by domestic help to refer to their
employer’s son

16

I am.. I am not.. I am
the bandage on my foot, was hysterical. I was put to bed
immediately.
About twenty minutes later, I felt very thirsty and called to
my mother ”May I have some water please” Within ten minutes,
I made her a request for another glass of water. No sooner had
I drank the second glass of water, I asked my mother for some
more. My mother, who was sitting by my bed, felt something
was wrong. Our neighbor was also a government officer. My
mother ran to him house to check if he was still in as he would
have the office his house. As luck would have it, our neighbor
was about to leave for work. This was not his usual time but he
had been delayed. My neighbor’s bungalow and ours were the
only two bungalows at quite a distance from the main city with
no mode of public transport. Had our neighbor left in his jeep as
per his usual time my mother would not have been able to rush
me back to the Civil Hospital.
The doctor on call instructed the nurse to hook me up to the
saline bottle as I was extremely dehydrated. He realized that I
was having an anaphylactic reaction to the serum. A reaction of
this type can cause death in minutes as the nervous system gets
paralysed suddenly, if the antidote is not administered to the
patient. The doctor had not taken the precaution of checking to
see if I was allergic to the serum prior to giving it to me. I was
given nearly two dozen injections to stop the reaction; my
progress was monitored before I was sent home. This was the
first close encounter with death.
The following day, I was driven to Jalna, another city close
by, that had a Civil Hospital equipped with X-ray equipment.

Raj Salvi 17
My ankle was x-rayed and it was found that I had multiple
fractures and my foot was promptly put into a cast. We returned
home with my leg in cast from knee down. It was nearly 3
months before the cast was removed. And this is when death
made a second attempt on my life.
We had just finished dinner, my mother was clearing the
table and my father was already deep into his work files at his
desk in the living room. I went to wash my hands in the bathroom
which was at a lower level to the dining area. Built on grand
scale, the bathroom was close to 70 feet by 20 feet in dimension.
I climbed down the stairs into the bathroom to wash my hands
and kept on playing with the water in the washbasin.
My mother shouted “Raj, stop playing in the water. Come
out of the bathroom immediately!”
She had her back to me as I climbed the stairs to the upper
level. I had barely reached the doorway when there was a
resounding crash. A cloud of dust engulfed me from behind.
Dust was everywhere and I could not see anything around me.
Hearing the crash, my mother turned and all she saw was
the cloud of dust. She screamed to my father: “Raj is trapped!
He is dead!”
I could hear her screams but could not move because there
was no visibility – I couldn’t see an inch in front of me. It was
about 10 minutes before the dust settled and some visibility was
restored and that is when my mother saw me standing in the
doorway, covered with dust but ALIVE!
1

A Hindu festival that symbolizes celebrating the victory of
good over evil as depicted in the epic Ramayana
2
A very popular sweet dish from Maharashtra made from milk

18

I am.. I am not.. I am
What had happened was that the entire 70 feet wall had
collapsed along with part of the roof. I certainly would have
been crushed to death if I had continued to play in the water
and not heeded my mother’s call. I narrowly escaped death the
second time.
It is believed that events normally happen in three’s. About
15 days after the above episode, it was the festival of Dassera3.
Dassera symbolizes victory of good over evil and is considered
to be a very auspicious festival. My father had a holiday and
took my brother and me to the city to purchase some sweets.
“Let’s buy “basundi4”, my father said.
He stopped in front of shop named Amrutbhandar and
bought some basundi. We reached home and had it as dessert
after lunch. I was not too fond of sweets in my childhood and
therefore took only a small quantity. My father insisted that the
day being an auspicious one, I should take some more.
“You need to celebrate the two close escapes from death!”
he said. He did not insist that my brother should have more but
forced me to take a couple of extra helpings of basundi. In the
end, I ended up having 3 cups of the sweet as a celebration.
My parents took us with them to visit some family friends,
as is customary during festivals. It was my brother who threw
up first and I followed him in a couple of minutes. Sensing
something was wrong, my parents drove us down to the Civil
Hospital. We saw hospital staff waiting at the entrance of the
hospital and as we reached them, one of them asked:
“Did you eat Basundi from Amrutbhandar5? My brother
5

A famous sweet shop in Aurangabad

Raj Salvi 19
and I were put on stretchers and rushed inside the hospital.
“I cannot find a vein on this one, Doctor!” shouted the nurse
who was working on me to hook me up to saline. Suddenly
there were three other nurses working frantically to find a vein.
Finally one of the nurses shouted “Here… I found a vein” – it
was in the space between my toes! The intravenous drip was
attached immediately.
“Do you know what happened?” my father told us later.
“While the shop was boiling the milk to prepare Basundi, a
lizard from the wall fell inside the milk and got boiled, releasing
its poisonous toxins into the milk. This was the third close
encounter with death at the age of 6.

The infinite truth latent in
everything reveals itself only
when life is accepted in its
totality.

20

I am.. I am not.. I am

2

CHAPTER

Real Happiness Lies in
Making Others Happy
Lord Meher, Volume 15, Page 5262
The Indian Institute of Technology (IIT) is one of the premier
engineering educational institutions in India. To obtain entry
into IIT is considered an outstanding academic achievement in
India. Top students from all over the country compete at the
joint entrance examination. I was proud to see my name in the
list of students accepted to join IIT in 1969.
The decision to join IIT was totally my own. My father was
in the UK on government business. My mother was in no
condition to guide me as she was suffering from schizophrenia.
I had to decide which of the five locations to select - Bombay,
Delhi, Kanpur, Kharagpur and Madras. I was looking for an
opportunity to experience life away from home and therefore
opted to register at IIT, Kanpur, Uttar Pradesh. I selected
Metallurgical Engineering.
A very apt saying comes to mind – “Man proposes, God
disposes”. On his return from the UK, my father was insistent

Raj Salvi 21
that I transfer to IIT, Bombay. He felt that I should be close to
him, so that he could monitor me in case of any problems arising
due to health or otherwise.
On the opening day of the 1969 IIT batch of students, there
was a flood of youngsters and their parents at IIT, Bombay
searching for their rooms in the hostels (dormitories). I realized
that I was probably the only new student who was not
accompanied by either of his parents. My father was totally
immersed with his work and my mother was too sick.
I thought I saw a familiar face in the sea of strangers in the
corridor of the hostel. It was Warty, my 10th grade classmate.
“Hey Warty,” I shouted as he was a few feet away.
“I’m sorry, I can’t remember your name” he answered.
“Raj Salvi” I said, adding “From St. Xavier’s High School.”
“Oh, yes, yes, now I remember” he acknowledged and then
quickly turned and disappeared into his room.
“You seem to be the only one here to know my son” a female
voice said.
I turned to see an elderly lady standing next to me.
“Yes, we were in the same class in grade ten” I replied.
“I need your help” she added quickly as if making sure that
whatever she needed to say was done prior to her son coming
out of the dorm room.
“I made sure my son studied at home, so that he could pass
the entrance exam for this Institute. Now that he is here alone,
he won’t have anyone nagging him to study. He is my only son
and I want you to promise me that you will help him in whatever
way possible to become an Engineer.”

22

I am.. I am not.. I am

Her face shone with the love of a mother and just for a
moment, I was jealous for I longed to see that expression on my
mother’s face too. Amidst the chaos in the corridor, and without
giving any thought to my words, I replied “I promise”.
She patted me on my shoulder and turned to go to her son’s
room.
My eyes filled with tears for I had just experienced the touch
of a mother’s love! I made a silent resolution that I would ensure
that her son studied with me and would not fall behind in the

Raj Salvi 23
class academically. Graduation was five years ahead and
therefore it meant that I had given a promise which would take
five years to be fulfilled.
When the results were posted at the end of the five-year IIT
engineering degrees, I was the last student in the First Class
category and Warty was the first student in the Second Class
category. We stood next to each other in the line at graduation to
receive our degrees.
I had kept my promise to a mother.

“True love is no game of the fainthearted and the weak; it is born of
strength and understanding”.

24

I am.. I am not.. I am

3

CHAPTER

Live Less For Yourself
And More For Others
The Indian Institute of Technology, Powai, Mumbai, is
situated on a thousand acre piece of land nestled between two
lakes, Powai and Vihar and surrounded by majestic hills.
The natural setting nurtured a variety of organic flora. I
recognized a particular bush. It had dozens of light brown fruits
with dusty powder on it. This was the ‘Khujli‘ plant, a kind of
stinging nettle - the slightest contact produces itching. I collected
the powder in an envelope.
As classes began, I surveyed my fellow classmates and found
my first victim – his name was Roland. He clearly stood out in
the crowd as he was the tallest and possibly the strongest. Being
of smaller proportions and wanting to experiment with this
natural itching powder, I figured he would be the perfect target.
I sat behind him and blew the fine powder into his shirt
collar and neck and then quickly changed my seat. I knew what
the reaction would be and I did not want to be within arm’s
length of Roland.

Raj Salvi 25
As expected, he started to scratch his neck, then his cheek
and, then his arm. The fine powder was being transported under
his nails and whichever part on his body he touched, the
powder was deposited and the itch would take over. He was so
agitated with the itch that he ran out of class in a panic leaving
the rest of the class in bewilderment, wondering what the
problem was. Later that day, Roland came to know of my prank,
barged into my dorm room and took my entire stash of the
“Khujli” powder and poured it down my back.
Thirty-two years have passed since that incident, and we
are still the best of friends.

***
Life in hostels can be a lonely experience, unless one develops
close ties with your peers who live with you, play with you, and
eat with you for five years. There were four of us, Roland, Warty,
Panthaky and myself. We gravitated towards each other due to
our love for playing pranks. We were of diverse ethnic and
cultural backgrounds. Over the next five years, we had some of
the most memorable times together. Of course, we had our
differences at times, but in the end the elastic band of friendship
pulled us together again. Even now, when we have crossed 50,
we still recall and laugh at the pranks of those years.
Sometimes difficult situations bring out the best in us and
we were lucky to experience such an event during our stay at
IIT.
It was our final year at IIT. We wanted to concentrate on our
studies and get on with our careers.

26

I am.. I am not.. I am
The monsoons were upon us on as we began our last year.
After a long day at the classes, we trudged back to our hostel
when we were beckoned by our classmate, Dennis, to go for
football practice.
Roland, Dennis and I, headed to the field in full soccer dress.
As we were leaving the hostel, Warty called me and said that he
was interested in ragging1 a boy who lived in his apartment
complex and was a freshman.
“I’m not interested in all this now, Warty” I replied. “I had
enough of this stuff in the last four years”.
The football practice lasted about 45 minutes and as we
walked past Hostel 4, one of the students shouted,
“Salvi, come on up, Warty is here”
The three of us started up the stairs to the second floor where
we saw approximately 100 students lined along the corridor.
We cut through the crowd and reached the point where the
freshman was being ragged.
“Let the action now begin” said Mammen. He was with us
in the first year and had failed so was still in fourth year. I saw
Warty sitting in Mammen’s room watching what was happening
in the corridor. I was standing next to the student while Panthaky
and Roland stood beside me.
“Use the newspaper as a towel and strip” Mammen directed
the freshman student. There was reluctance from him to obey,
but he finally realized that he was outnumbered and started to
comply. As he wrapped newspaper around his torso like a towel,
his trousers slipped down his ankles. I lit a cigarette and came
in front. Suddenly, I noticed that the newspaper was burning

Raj Salvi 27
and he was forced to drop the newspaper.
“Dress up now and go back to your hostel” Mammen told
the student. As he was putting his trousers on, I quickly ducked
into the room and told Warty to talk to the student as he seemed
frightened.
“Oh! No! If he complains, I will take care of him at home”
Warty replied nonchalantly.
I decided to catch up with the freshman before he reached
Hostel 3 and caught up with him as he was leaving the gate.
“Are you burnt anywhere?” I enquired.
He was so frightened that he barely nodded his head
denying any injury.
“Apply some ointment if there are any burns”, I told him
and went back up the stairs to join my friends.
A week had passed since this incident when suddenly
notices were put up on the notice boards that there had been a
serious case of ragging in the Institute and that the Warden’s of
all the hostels would address the students after dinner.
“Raj, don’t open your mouth at the meeting” the hostel
General Secretary advised me quickly.
“Why should I? I didn’t do anything” I replied.
“Please take my advice” he added.
After dinner the mess lounge was rearranged for the meeting.
“Let’s go and sit in the first row, we don’t have anything to
worry about” I advised. From where I sat, the Warden was
standing exactly opposite to me as he faced the students. He
was glaring at me furiously.
“There has been a serious case of ragging in this campus”

28

I am.. I am not.. I am
began the Warden.
I tried to imagine what horrendous things someone must
have done to force the authorities to call for a meeting of this
magnitude. The first of its kind in my four year stay at the
Institute.
“A student was taken from Hostel 3 and burned in Hostel
4” the Warden stated, barely controlling his temper.
I suddenly realized that this was none other than our case
that was being discussed. “Raj, don’t open your mouth at the
meeting” suddenly made a lot of sense.
Covering my mouth with my palm, I whispered to Warty
who was next to me,
“Slowly slide to the end and let’s get out of here”
Quickly, all four of us walked out of the meeting, even as the
Warden hollered,
“I will personally butcher these fellows period”
We met up outside and decided to take our mattresses and
climb on to the roof and sleep there until the Warden had left
our hostel. He left around 3:00 a.m. As we came down to the
hostel lobby, the General Secretary of the hostel met us.
“Where were you Raj? The Warden’s been waiting for you
to confess to what you did” he said
“I told you, I did not do anything!” I replied and carried on.
I suddenly realized that I might be expelled from the Institute
and five years of Engineering studies would amount to nothing.
Around 10 a.m. the next morning, the notices went up much
to the anxiety of all students. There were two students from
Hostel 4 who had been expelled from the Institute and about

Raj Salvi 29
100 students were fined.
“Why is your name not among the expelled ones, Raj?” the
General Secretary asked wondering.
“I told you, I was not involved.”
I then analyzed the entire incident at Hostel 4 and realized
that when I came to the front, the student saw my lit cigarette
and presumed that I had lit the newspaper from behind. What
had actually happened was that as I did not have a lighter or a
matchbox, I signaled to a friend who was standing behind the
student to light my cigarette. He did and then proceeded to light
the newspaper from behind. As the student was busy
extinguishing the fire behind, the match was passed to Mammen,
who then lit the front of the newspaper.
The notice gave the names of both the students and asked
them to vacate the hostels within 24 hours. Suddenly the doors
flew open to my room and Mammen and my friend were standing
in the doorway, tears streaming down their cheeks.
“Our lives are completely shattered. What are we going to
tell our parents who have spent so much money on our
education?” they said with lowered heads.
“Relax, we will find a solution. Every problem has a
solution”, I comforted them.
I called Roland, Warty and Panthaky to my room.
“I think I have a solution” I said.
“Do you remember a movie named Stalag 17?” I stopped.
All of them in the room looked confused, likely wondering what
that question had to do with the situation at hand.
“There is a scene where all the prisoners’ of war are lined

30

I am.. I am not.. I am
up and the German General comes to address them. He gets up
on the pedestal wearing a monocle. There’s a small pool of water
in front of him, below the pedestal. One of the POWs picks a
stone and throws it into the puddle. The water splashes onto
the monocle and the General demands that the one who did it
fall out. Slowly, one by one, soldiers started to fall out from
different lines. The General orders them all to ‘fall back’”
“How is this going to help us?” Mammen interrupted.
“Don’t you understand why the General could not take a
decision? Because he knew that so many soldiers could not
have thrown one stone, but more importantly, he could not
punish all of them” I answered.
“Do you think that if we all said that we are equally
responsible being present at the scene, that the authorities will
expel six students at one time?” I asked. I was hoping that the
friendship that had developed over the past five years would
come into play. We had become more like brothers, than friends.
“Are you crazy?” said Warty
“Impossible! I can’t do this” was Roland’s response
“I too don’t agree” added Panthaky.
“I think we can stop these guys from being expelled. We
have been friends for so long and that’s why I suggested this
way. Anyway, the choice is yours. I feel morally obligated to
take some of the blame because I didn’t make any effort to prevent
the incident. I’m going to see the Director tomorrow morning
and I’ll let you all know what happens.” I concluded.
The next day as I was leaving the hostel to meet the Director,
Warty, Roland, and Panthaky joined me.

Raj Salvi 31
“We thought about what you said last night and we think it
is the right solution” Panthaky told me.
“We were all there and take full responsibility for what
happened, Sir” I said as the four of us faced the Director of the
Institute in his office.
“Do you realize Mr. Salvi that I can expel all of you from this
Institute along with your other two friends?” the Director said.
“Yes, Sir” I replied.
We watched in amazement the expression change on the
Director’s face. He had tears in his eyes!
“These are tears of joy, Mr. Salvi. The purpose of these Indian
Institutes when they were created was to foster a spirit of
brotherhood amongst all the Alumni. What you have done has
proved that it works! You may all leave and within the next 2
hours, new notices will be put on the notice boards,” said the
Director.
As promised, new notices were put up. All six of us were
allowed to attend classes but had to vacate the hostels in 24
hours.
I learnt that day that one has to, for the happiness of others,
be ready to sacrifice everything and that any problem can be
resolved with LOVE.

“The Master helps the seeker in his own
invincible ways, which have no parallel in
the ways of the world. But if the aspirant is
to be the recipient of this help, he must make
a real effort to surrender himself to the
Divine will of the Master”.

32

I am.. I am not.. I am

4

CHAPTER

A New Birth
The year was 1975 and I had completed my engineering
studies at the Indian Institute of Technology (IIT). Armed with
a Bachelor’s degree in Metallurgy I took up a job with one of my
relations who had an iron metal casting foundry. About 300
people earned their livelihood in this unit. Metals parts were
made from melting iron scrap and pouring into sand moulds.
These parts were mainly supplied to pump, automobile and
other industries.
The work was strenuous. It involved working amidst a
furnace that spewed molten metal at 1400 degrees C periodically,
fumes, sand, dust – an atmosphere that takes a heavy toll on
the body. At the end of a 10-12 hour shift, you are exhausted.
The ride home is a one and half hour train ride and then another
half hour bus ride.
On this particular day – a day that would change my life
forever – I was working on a project which involved being close
to the melting furnace. The constant heat drained the energy
out of me.
“How did you manage to make that experiment

Raj Salvi 33
successful?” asked my boss, Mr. Ghosh.
I was working on the metal composition to manufacture a
brake disc for scooters.
“I guess my knowledge of metallurgy helped me find the
solution,” I replied, arrogant of my own abilities. Graduating
from an engineering institute like the Indian Institute of
Technology (IIT) was a feather in the cap. IIT generated a bit of
ego in all its graduates, making them feel superior to others.
After all, only a few are
selected
nationwide

from

a
joint

entrance examination to
enter this institute.
Hence those who are
successful in gaining
entry into IIT were
considered crème de la
crème.
The local train was crowded as usual. I got lost in the mass
of humanity. After a hard day’s work, I had to find the energy
to stand for one and a half hours, packed tightly like a sardine
in a can. As the station arrived, the mass of humanity poured
out of the compartment only to be replaced by another mass
getting in, all within seconds. The trains rolled on at 80 mph.
“Next station is Grant Road,” Mr. Ghosh advised me
knowing this was the station that I got off to catch the bus
home. “See you tomorrow, boss!” I replied. It was around 6:30
p.m.

34

I am.. I am not.. I am
I waited on the platform for the train to pass. There are
overhead bridges for passengers to cross the railway tracks
and I used them regularly. However, this evening I was too
exhausted to climb the stairs to go across the tracks to the bus
stop. As the train’s last compartment pulled away from me
slowly, I quickly jumped onto the tracks and glanced towards
the direction a train would come on the next track. I knew this
was the fast track used by the express train, traveling at 100
mph. I gave a quick glance and stepped onto this track.
I realized my mistake immediately. There was an express
train on that track heading directly towards me. I had failed to
see it because it was hidden by the train that was leaving the
platform. My exhaustion had reduced my awareness of the
surroundings. I saw the train approximately 10 feet away. “It
is over,” the thought flashed through my mind. All of a sudden
a white ethereal form materialized close to me. I felt myself
being picked up by the waist and being gently placed back on
the other track. It appeared as if the express train was frozen in
time – I saw it framed as if in a picture frame. Then I felt the
express train thunder past me, just a few feet away. As soon as
it passed, I turned around to thank the person who had saved
my life. There was no one there!
My first thoughts were “I should be dead. God, You have
kept me alive for a reason. Every action I take from this moment
on will be in Your service.” The egoistic and arrogant Raj Salvi
died at this moment. I don’t know when I reached home. I was
shaken by this incident.
At the dinner table that night, I told my father that I had a

Raj Salvi 35
mind shattering experience. After I had narrated the entire
incident, he said, “Yes, I believe you.” I was astonished. “I tell
you less colorful stories and you always disbelieve me, and yet
I narrate an astonishing story, and you calmly accept it? Why?”
“Because I have experienced a similar incident in my life
too”, my father replied calmly. I was intrigued. “It happened
in Germany. I could not read German and therefore took a
wrong entry in the Autobahn. I realized this as the first car
came from the opposite direction and passed me like a bullet. I
knew this was the end. Suddenly a large white figure appeared
on the road, picked me up with the moving car and put me on
the right side of the Autobahn. That is why I believe you.”
I realized then that there is a guardian angel looking after
our family. Someone who made sure that both father and son
had to be kept alive for some purpose only known to Him!

“The way to remain free from
karma is to remain completely
detached in service”.

36

I am.. I am not.. I am

5

CHAPTER

Marriages Are Made
In Heaven
“Raj! my father called for me in the house.
I had just returned to Mumbai following my resignation
from Business Combine Limited, in Nasik, Satpur industrial
estate. After my graduation from The Indian Institute of
Technology, Bombay in 1974, I had taken a job in this factory.
My experience had been in foundry and this being one of the
leading foundries in India in the year 1974, I considered myself
fortunate to be given a chance to work there. Yes, it was a
chance especially I had not even applied to get a job there. I had
applied to ExcellO ( India) for a Sales position that they had
advertised.
“There is a marriage proposal for you” my father continued
“ Mr Chowgule has a daughter who has made it known that
she is interested in getting married to you. She saw you in
another wedding lately.”
“Do you know Mr. Chowgule is a rich businessman and
has many companies. You can work in any of them and thus

Raj Salvi 37
won’t have to look for a job in your life” Dad stopped.
I was pensive and did not reply immediately. Dad seemed
a bit disturbed at my silence. “I am not interested in the
proposal” was my quiet reply.
“Are you out of your mind? This marriage will make your
life” he retorted.” What are you basing you decision on?” he
added
I had considered that if I marry her, I would have to be
subservient to her every wish as they were much richer than
my family and this financial imbalance would be most
disadvantageous to me as the son-in-law.
I decided to venture out and find a job first (remove the
period) before I thought of getting married. With this in mind, I
had applied to several companies in Bombay
ExcellO (India) an automobile part manufacturing
company, called me for a job interview. As the Vice President
was taking my interview a man suddenly walked in and sat
down in the room. He took my resume from the Vice President
and studied it. I thought he was probably the President of
Excell O.
He asked the VP to let him speak to me.
“You are a Metallurgical Engineer?” he asked me
“Yes, I am “I replied blankly, wondering what was this all
about.
“Would you like to work in a foundry?” he asked. “We
have a foundry in Nasik and I might be able to take you there.
Would you be Ok to work and stay in Nasik? He enquired
“I most certainly would love that” I answered without

38

I am.. I am not.. I am
moment of hesitation. Metal casting was my passion since
passing IIT in 1974. I had worked in a foundry in Mulund for a
few months and I was fully conversant with the casting
manufacturing techniques.
“Well then here is my telephone number in Nasik. When
you reach there give me a call. My name is Mehta.” he said as
he handed me a paper with his number.
My father had married again recently after he divorced my
mother due to her illness. As I was close to my mother, I was
opposed to my father remarrying The option to leave Mumbai
and go to Nasik was a welcome one for me as this would keep
me away from staying with my stepmother.
After a four year stay in Nasik and working with BCL as
the foundry was known, I left and returned in the summer of
1978 back to Mumbai. It was April and the city was hot and
humid, compared to the cool and pleasant hill station like
weather of Nasik This weather had been idle for binges of
drinking and I had got addicted to liquor. I would drink a whole
bottle of rum at one sitting and with no addition of water or
Coke (otherwise sounds like you were having drugs!) Off course
the loneliness in a small town like Nasik pushed me towards
addiction to liquor.
Coming back to Mumbai meant staying with my father and
my stepmother for the first time, after my four year stint in Nasik.
I knew it was going to be difficult to adjust to the new
surroundings in the house. I was told that the only place for me
in the house was in the balcony, where I could keep my bags
and bed. Fate had wanted to test me again and again .My step

Raj Salvi 39
brother was married and with two bedrooms there was no place
for me especially as my younger sister was also staying there.
I felt that I had to move out of this situation and launch out
on my own. I contacted my mentor in the foundry Mr. R. R.
Salvi who was also looking for an alternative to the consultancy
he was forced to offer in Sangli. Jointly with my close friend in
Nasik Mr Merchant who had a non operative foundry unit, we
joined hands and restarted the foundry in 1979 which is still
working thirty years later..
Marriage was now on my life’s agenda. I was close to
becoming thirty years of age. My career was on its way as a
partner in this foundry at Nasik.
“Do visit my family every week when I am in America”
Raktim said to me, “I don’t want my parents to miss their son.”
My close friend was leaving for bachelor’s studies in USA , and
wanted me to fill in the void that he was creating in his parent’s
life.
“ I promise you” I replied as Raktim bid us goodbyes and
vanished from our view to board the aircraft at Santa Cruz
airport in Bombay.
I was in IIT first year when in 1969 when Raktim left for the
USA. Without fail I would visit his parents whenever I could
and ensure that my promised was honoured. At times I had to
intervene in the their family problems. I was practically a family
member in my friend’s family. He had an elder sister who was
married and staying near Calcutta. His younger sister Rashmita
and younger brother Rajat were staying with their parents.
My moving to Nasik in 1974 made these trips less frequent.

40

I am.. I am not.. I am
However whenever I came to Mumbai from Nasik I visited
them and ensured that his parents did not feel the loss of their
son. It was one of those days that I arrived at my friend’s house.
It was evening and only his parents were there. His Dad
was sitting with his head in his hands.
“What happened?” I asked him. I was expecting some bad
news and braced myself for it.
“Oh nothing, it’s not working” he said in a quizzical
manner
I was lost at this answer. What was not working? I
questioned as he continued
“She does not approve any of the boys I show her” he added
I now understood that he was talking of Rashmita’s
marriage. I felt bad for my friend’s dad who was getting closer
to retirement and this was a big responsibility as a father he
had to complete. The age of parental arranged marriages had
not yet gone from India. Putting myself in his shoes , I felt the
pain of a father .
Rashmita and I were married December 1979 in Mumbai.
She had done a Bachelor’s in Arts from Elphinstone College in
Bombay and had done a few jobs in the local offices.
Honeymoon was in Nainital and when we returned we
had to move from my in laws place.
I had no place to stay after my marriage and my Dad was
aware of my predicament.
“ I have arranged a place for both of you to stay. It is a two
bedroom apartment in Juhu right on the seashore. An
acquaintance of mine has offered it to both of you as an in

Raj Salvi 41
between arrangements till you find a more permanent
accommodation” my Dad told me as he handed me the keys.
“This is wonderful Raj. I understand that there are
Bollywood filmstar’s residing in this building.” Rashmita
remarked.
One day my dad informed me that his friend had offered
me the place for a small sum of Indian Rupees two hundred
thousand. The actual cost of the apartment was close to 5 times
that price at that time in 1980.
“Let’s buy it” Rashmita said
“Start packing, we will go and stay in a shanty, if needed
but I don’t want this apartment as a charity from my dad’s
friend. He is going to use dad’s position in the government
office many times over for this favor. “ I blew the idea off.
We moved to a one room accommodation in New Bombay
and stayed in a low income neighborhood.
This room accommodated a small kitchen and a toilet apart
from a cupboard and a bed we had of our own.
One particular day it rained heavily in the month of June,
and when we returned to our shanty we found that water had
collected up to the level of the bed mattress. Due to the flooding
the cockroaches had all climbed onto the walls. I knew that
Rashmita was extremely frightened of them.
“If you want you can go to your parent’s house to sleep. “ I
told Rashmita adding” If God wants to test me I will accept
Him in whatever condition. He wants me to sleep here tonight
and I will. If you pass this test He will show you good times, I
promise” I said.

42

I am.. I am not.. I am
“ I am not going to my parent’s house. I will sleep in the
same bed ,so what if it is soaked, there is some patch where it is
dry” Rashmita replied
I knew He had given me a partner that He had chosen. Yes,
marriages are made in heaven.

“Before Karma is created, the
individual has a sort of freedom to
choose what it shall be; but after it
has been accomplished, it becomes a
factor, which cannot be ignored and
which has either to be expended
through the results, which it invites,
or counter-acted by fresh and
appropriate Karma”.

Raj Salvi 43

6

CHAPTER

You And I Are Not We
But One
Running a small scale industry in Mumbai was a tough
endeavor especially since the foundry was located in an area
where the infrastructure was inadequate.
“Raj, will you help my cousin Vijay start his factory in
Titawala?” asked my friend, Pankaj. “Why don’t we meet your
cousin and go from there?” I replied.
The history of the factory was that it had stopped production
for six years; however, the Union made sure the workers
received their wages. Moreover, as the management had made
provision for living quarters in the factory compound, the
workers were occupying the factory premises for six years.
“I would like you to meet my father,” Vijay told me. Vijay’s
father was a frail, elderly gentleman who had difficulty walking,
even with the support of a cane. “Mr. Salvi, I spent my life
building and running this factory to bring it to what it is now.
My son, Vijay, is not capable of running the factory. I am now
too old to go the factory every day. I need someone who can run

44

I am.. I am not.. I am
this factory,” he pleaded.
“Why don’t you go to the factory, Vijay?” I asked. “I am
afraid that the workers will beat me up.” “I will come with
you,” I replied.
The next day Vijay, Pankaj and I went to the factory, located
nearly 100 kilometers from downtown Mumbai. As we walked
from the local station, I could see the look of apprehension on
Vijay’s face. I was cracking jokes to keep the atmosphere light
and free from tension. The factory was massive and the square
footage was close to 40 acres. As we entered the gates, the
workers stood up as if threatened by our intrusion.
I could see the cobwebs on the machines and a general
sense of despair in the air. I slowly moved away from Vijay and
Pankaj and walked towards a group of workers who were
standing and watching us. “How are things here?” I casually
asked to break the silence. “Are you an engineer?” asked one of
them who was eyeing me closely. “Yes,” I replied. “The last
engineer who came to start the factory was murdered at the
railway station”, he mentioned nonchalantly. “Thank you for
informing me. I am now forewarned and hence forearmed. Just
make sure you are not the one I have to kill, for whosoever tries
to kill me will die first, I guarantee it!”
The purpose of my strong words was to deter any of the
workers from taking me for granted. I was soon to galvanize
the workforce which was not used to working for the last six
years. I had to enforce discipline immediately. Within the next
15 days, the production had started in full earnest. I spent most
of my time directing the work activities while Vijay looked after

Raj Salvi 45
the administration. Being a metallurgical engineer, I was
guiding the “melting-in-charge” on how to control the metal
chemistry. The person concerned seemed to come from a very
poor background and was obviously not educated. Yet he was
able to inform me some metal characteristics just by observation.
It had taken me 5 years at IIT to acquire this knowledge, whereas
here was a person who was teaching me – someone with no
formal engineering knowledge! I developed a profound
admiration for this person.
“Will you come to my house for lunch,” he asked me one
day hesitatingly. “Sure, since you are inviting me, I will surely
come. Tell me the date and time,” I said. The following week on
a holiday he invited me to his house which was in the factory
compound itself. All the workers were staying in a little of
colony of huts. However, this person’s hut was a little distance
away from this colony.
He was waiting at the factory gate to receive me and take
me personally to his home. As we entered his hut, I saw that it
was pristinely clean and whatever little possession he had,
were arranged properly. The food was delicious and I could
see that his wife had taken the pains to cook up a good meal.
As I came out of the hut, I was met by a group of workers
from the factory who lived in the colony of huts. “Do you know
whose house you went?” they chorused.
“Sure, he is the melting-in-charge person in our factory.” I
replied. I was aware of what the workers were waiting for me
to say, however I was waiting to hear it from them.
“Do you know that he is an untouchable?”

46

I am.. I am not.. I am
They expected me to jump at this admission. “I know that,”
I said calmly, without any expression.
“And yet you ate at his house! We are Brahmins, and you
did not come to our house to eat,” the man said.
I pointed to the melting-in-charge person and said, “He
invited me to his home to have lunch, and therefore I went.
None of you invited me to your home, therefore how could I
come?”

“Spiritual freedom is won by one’s self for
one’s self, through watchful and unfailing
war against the false self. Those who would
be soldiers in the cause of truth have to
help others not only in launching upon the
thrilling enterprise of attaining victory over
oneself, but also in every step they take
towards attainment; there is no other way of
sharing their burden”.

Raj Salvi 47

7

CHAPTER

Guru Meets His
Disciple
Rashmita and I were married in 1979 and our first daughter,
Poonam was born in July 1982. She was like a ray of sunshine
in our lives. The small scale foundry unit that I had started had
teething problems that was a drain on our finances. In short,
life was tough.
Much to our horror, Poonam became critically ill when she
was a month old. We rushed her to intensive care. The diagnosis
came in that she had septicemia which had caused her internal
organs to fail and that it was just a matter of hours before she
died.
I sent Rashmita away with her family while I waited at
Poonam’s bedside watching as she struggled to breathe. At
that moment, I said to God: “I have never asked you for anything
in my life but I am going to ask you something now. You gave
me this soul to look after but now You are taking her away. I
want this same soul back again.” Poonam died a few minutes
later.

48

I am.. I am not.. I am
Rashmita gave birth to our second daughter, Mayura, in
1983. She was about two months old when we left her with my
in-laws to attend a wedding in Pune, a city about 200 miles
from Mumbai. At the reception hall, Rashmita and I were
standing to one side taking a break from meeting all the
relations.
I noticed my maternal aunt coming towards us with a
gentleman in tow. The tall, slim gentleman was dressed in a
safari suit (a fashion statement in the 80"s in India) came straight
to me and slapped me on the back saying “What? You have a
daughter, right? She has a slight projection in front of her left
ear. Your first daughter has come back to you. Take good care
of her.” And then he smiled. I vaguely remember my aunt
introducing him as Dada Maharaj.
I was so stunned by what he had just said that I felt as if the
ground had disappeared from beneath my feet and I was
standing in mid-air. I couldn’t believe what I had just heard.
No one knew of my conversation with God at Poonam’s bedside
– not even Rashmita. How did this man know?
Dada Maharaj then said: “I will meet you again when the
time is right.” And then he walked away with my aunt.
The next question that came to my mind was – “What did
he mean by projection in front of Mayura’s left ear?”
I turned to Rashmita and told her about my conversation
with God the night Poonam died. And when I asked her about
the projection, she was equally surprised.
“There was an eclipse during the pregnancy and mother
had asked me to lie still in a darkened room and think of only

Raj Salvi 49
God until the eclipse had passed. I was not to touch anything
or do anything. I put my mother’s superstition to the test and
had pinched the skin in front of my left ear. Mayura has a small
projection in front of her left ear in exactly the same place that I
had pinched.”
For the next five years, I tried to get in touch with Dada
Maharaj but was unable to do so until he called me to meet him
in 1988.

“One who lives for himself is
truly dead and one who dies
for God is truly alive”.

50

I am.. I am not.. I am

8

CHAPTER

Dada’s Texas Letter
When we are born into this world, our soul is encased in a
body and through this body and its senses we become aware or
conscious of the world around us. This concept of our being
has also been expressed by great souls like the Greek
philosopher Plato and the English poet William Wordsworth.
The soul in its journey through multiple realms of Creation,
picks up impressions or experiences. The Soul can be compared
to a car that has started on a long journey, the driver is
Consciousness. As the car starts on the journey, it stops at
various locations and the driver interacts with different places
and people – some are pleasant experiences and some are not –
like the dirt that splashes on the body of the car. These
impressions then get attached to the Consciousness.
Each individual soul has emerged out of God consciousness
and having separated itself from God Consciousness, is
searching for its own identity in the gross world. The soul starts
its journey through several realms of non-human existence like

Raj Salvi 51
stone, metal, plants, insects, fishes, birds and animals. By
experiencing each realm, the soul comes to the conclusion that
it is not part of that realm – this journey takes millions of years.
After the animal realm, the soul reaches the human realm.
Upon acquiring a human body, the Consciousness now needs
to remove all the impressions it has gathered on its journey
through the realms so that it can begin its journey back to the
God Consciousness and merge into it. For the merger to happen,
the soul needs a Perfect Master to clean the soul of its
impressions and send it back on its homeward journey to God
where the soul merges back into God Consciousness. The soul
has finally reached Home.
The God Conscious soul can return back to the gross world
having both God Consciousness as well as human
consciousness. These are the Perfect Masters who come to show
the way to the other souls who wish to go back to God
Consciousness. Perfect Masters have spiritual powers and
hence the ability to remove the impressions on the soul.
All Perfect Masters have gone through the cycles of birth
and death and finally attained God Consciousness. The
gradual death of desires leads to this state of God Consciousness,
where all activities of life are conducted only by using the
language of the heart, which is Divine Love.
The Guru is the Perfect Master and since their
Consciousness is at both levels, they are able to control who
gets to meet them, at what time and which location. I met Dada
at the US embassy in Mumbai after a five year separation.
Subsequently, we met on several occasions and each meeting

52

I am.. I am not.. I am
was a lesson in itself.
“Raj, I want to meet your Dada Maharaj tomorrow” said
Kumar.
Kumar was my neighbor at Konkan Bhavan where we lived
after the birth of Mayura. Kumar was also my batch mate from
IIT.
“Our new neighbor is an engineer” said Rashmita as soon
as I entered our home one day. In a city like Mumbai, one does
not concern themselves too much with neighbors. Where is the
time? For me relaxation was a luxury as my days and sometimes
nights were preoccupied with running the foundry.
One day as I was unlocking the door, I noticed that my
neighbor’s door was open. I saw a man sitting inside and
immediately recognized him as Kumar from my IIT days. We
rekindled our friendship and whenever the opportunity rose,
both of us would sit and drink. He had children who were
around the same age as Mayura and our wives seemed to get
along. My conversation would often gravitate towards Dada
Maharaj. But Kumar showed no interest whatsoever.
Since we had left IIT in April, 1974, Kumar had gone to UK
and completed his Master’s in Welding Technology. After
spending several years in Cameroon, he had accumulated a
sizeable amount of savings and had come home to India.
“I have applied to all the major companies and should be
getting a job any day” Kumar remarked sipping his glass of
rum. “I have the qualifications,” he added.
Two months passed and Kumar was still jobless. His
savings were depleting and he seemed quite desperate when

Raj Salvi 53
he said he wanted to meet Dada.
“Why don’t you meet me tonight at Shivaji Road,” I said,
“and we will go and meet Dada.
“No, I am coming with you right now. I will be with you the
entire day,” he stated. There was a hint of panic in his voice
which prompted me to ask
“Is everything alright Kumar?”
“What am I going to feed my children tomorrow” Kumar
whispered.
I had no idea that Kumar’s financial situation had
deteriorated to this level.
“In that case, you can come along with me and we will
meet Dada at 9:00pm tonight.”
Kumar shadowed me the entire day.
“Is Dada Maharaj in?” I asked as the door opened.
“No, he has gone out”
My heart sank for Kumar’s sake and I am certain that
Kumar’s did too.
“I mean, he will be back in half hour” the lady at the door
added.
Relieved we climbed down the stairs silently and spent the
next half hour in silence waiting for Dada’s return.
“Bring him inside, Raj. He is the last person I have to meet
today” Dada remarked letting us in into the apartment. As we
entered, he continued, “So you are not getting a job? You will
not get a job.” Dada finished the sentence and turned to talk
with his son.
Hearing these words from Dada crushed Kumar’s world.

54

I am.. I am not.. I am
He had come with so much hope that Dada would show him
the way but instead he had dashed his hopes in one short
sentence.
“You should be fasting on Saturdays” Dada quickly
addressed Kumar before continuing his conversation with his
son.
“What is fasting?” Kumar whispered to me.
Before I could explain to him, Dada said, “Yes Raj, tell him
what fasting is. He has never fasted in his life. Am I right,
Kumar?”
“Yes” Kumar sheepishly replied.
As I was explaining the process of fasting, Dada got up
and bent down to Kumar in an attempt to touch his feet.
“Please do it for me if not for yourself. Just for three Saturdays
and you will see a miracle”
Seeing this humble gesture, I realized the love that a Perfect
Master expressed for everyone.
“The minute I saw Dada Maharaj, my stress disappeared”
Kumar expressed as soon as the door shut behind us.
“That is the sign of a Perfect Master. Whenever one is in
their presence all fear, worries, stress disappear. They act like a
sponge absorbing all the worries troubling you. After emptying
you of all your problems, they fill you with a sense of well
being,” I said.
During our way back home we decided that we would visit
the shrine of another Perfect Master, Sai Baba of Shirdi.
Three weeks passed since we had met Dada Maharaj.
“Raj, look what has happened” Kumar shouted from across

Raj Salvi 55
the open door.
“Today is Monday and I have calls for job interviews from
almost all the companies I had applied to earlier”
What Dada had promised had happened.
Dada had left for Texas and had given me the address to
write to him if it was urgent. I thought this good news should
be relayed to Dada immediately.
“Kumar, here is Dada’s address in Texas. Write to him” I
said, handing him a piece of paper.
A couple of days later an Kumar came to meet me with an
envelope in his hand.
“Just look at this!” he said handing me and envelope.
The top of the envelope read “Kumar, New Bombay.” There
was no formal address and no postage stamp. It was from
Dada in Texas and it was a reply to Kumar’s letter. But only
two days had passed since he had sent the letter. How could
Dada have received the letter and also sent his reply in such a
short period of time?
“Read the line where Dada has written ‘Keep fasting on
Thursday as you have decided”
“I don’t understand, didn’t he tell you to fast on Saturdays?”
I asked.
“Yes, but because we went to Shirdi on Thursday, I told my
wife that henceforth I will fast on Thursdays. How did Dada in
Texas know about my conversation with my wife?” Kumar
questioned.
Both of us had no clue. We just accepted that with Dada
Maharaj there were no conventional answers. We had no

56

I am.. I am not.. I am
answers to what had occurred. We realized that applying logic
from our engineering background seemed futile in trying to
explain the phenomenon that occurs in the spiritual realm.

“If you do wrong, think Baba
is doing wrong. If you get a
pain, think it is Baba having a
pain. If you do all this
sincerely, you will know
something and forget yourself
and do all for Baba”.

Raj Salvi 57

9

CHAPTER

Malang Baba Will
Meet You!
Activities had begun in earnest now that I had received the
visa to go to Canada as per Dada’s directions. However, there
were a number of loose ends to be tied up. Rashmi Shellcast
Foundry’s suppliers’ had to be paid off, preparation for the trip
was to be started, relatives to say goodbye to, etc.
In India, when one undertakes a long journey, or leaving
one’s country to go to a foreign place, it is customary to visit
religious places to pay one’s respects and to obtain the
blessings of the Almighty for the new life ahead.
“Vijay, I feel I should visit Haji Malang Baba’s Dargah at
Kalyan. He seems to be calling me.” I told my friend.
“Well, if you want to go, let’s go. I know the way.” Vijay
replied.
We boarded the local train at Kurla Station. As usual, the
local train was crowded and we had to push our way into the
compartment. The train ride was approximately an hour to
Kalyan Station. It was around 9:30 a.m. and the station was

58

I am.. I am not.. I am
crowded. Haji Malang is
a 300 year old dargah at
Kalyan, in Mumbai,
where

Baba

Abdul

Rehman Malang has been
buried. A dargah is a
shrine built over the grave
of a revered religious
figure, often a Sufi saint.
Haji Malang was a Sufi
saint who had come to
India in the 12th century
AD from the Middle East.
The dargah is located half
way up the mountains. To
reach the Dargah, you
have to climb steps carved into the side of the hill.
Vijay and I made our way towards the exit when suddenly
a man, who was coming from the opposite on the platform,
stopped directly in front of me and said:.
“Malang Baba will meet you!” Before I could react to his
remark he had disappeared into the crowd.
Vijay and I started to move along with the mass of pilgrims
who had come to pay their respects. There were all types of
people – some looked affluent, some poor, young and old. We
walked on the dusty footpath heading towards the towering
hill.
“The Dargah is on the top the hill and there are many steps

Raj Salvi 59
– you sure you
can do it,” Vijay
said

as

trudged

we
over

small boulders.
I knew that
the road to Perfect
Masters is never a
smooth one. This
one was certainly
rough. My mind was locked on Vijay’s statement which
triggered memories of my trek to the origin of the Godavari
River near Nasik. I had gone with a group of my colleagues to
see the spot on top of the Trimbakeshwar Mountain where the
river originates.
“Let’s climb to the top rather than take the 700 steps,” said
Ganeshan. All the rest of my colleagues were excited while I
was frozen hearing those words. I suffered from vertigo from
childhood. “Sarthy, stay close to me,” I whispered to my friend.
Before we started the climb, I spoke to the group, “If any one
dislodges a stone from above, please yell “stone!” so that
whoever is below will hear and take precaution.’
After about 15 minutes of climbing, Sarthy remained close
to me and the rest of the group was above us, out of sight. I
suddenly heard the dreadful word “stone!” My heart froze
with fright and as I looked down and saw the drop, my legs
froze with fear. I could hear the stone rumbling as it gathered
momentum. The fear in me was building up as I noticed that I

60

I am.. I am not.. I am
had about a foot clearance before I could see the boulder.
“Raj move! You are in line with the boulder,” Sarthy shouted
breaking my thoughts. He was to my right about 15 feet away
and could see the line of the boulder and my position. During
those days I used to open the innings in cricket and always
used the principle of moving away from the line of the fast ball
rather than ducking down. It dawned on me that this was a
similar situation and I had to be quick to miss the boulder. I
had my eyes glued to the point where I anticipated the boulder
to appear.
Suddenly I saw it - it was the size of a watermelon – I threw
my head to one side and the boulder missed my head, grazed
my thigh and hurtled down, nearly a 1000 feet to the ravine
below.
“You could have been killed!” Sarthy shouted. As he came
closer I explained to him my vertigo problem.
“Why are you sitting down on the step, Raj?” Vijay broke
into my reverie.
“I can’t make it to the top to Baba’s Dargah. I am afraid of
heights. I will take Baba’s blessings from here. You go up and
bring the “Prasad” for me.”
“Are you crazy? Baba has called you and he will take you
up and bring you down safely.” Vijay was annoyed. It dawned
on me that what he just said was true. Baba would protect me if
I put my full faith in him.
We quickly reached the top and found a huge crowd of
pilgrims between rows of shops selling tea, snacks, flowers,
etc. We paid our respects to Baba Malang and it was now time

Raj Salvi 61
to go back home.
I was worried about the climb down as the steps were barely
six feet from the edge of the mountain. I knew my legs would
freeze if I looked down as the drop was almost 3000 feet.
Suddenly, a small child took hold of my hand, turned,
walked a few steps with me down the hill.
“Baba will meet you” the words were still fresh in my mind.
“Vijay, look what is happening,” I whispered to Vijay as
the child took hold of my hand. But even before Vijay could
register and look in my direction, the child had vanished into
the crowd.
Perfect Masters can come in different shapes and forms to
meet you. It is we who cannot see them in all.

“The Master helps the seeker in his
own invincible ways, which have no
parallel in the ways of the world. But if
the aspirant is to be the recipient of this
help, he must make a real effort to
surrender himself to the Divine will of
the Master”.

62

I am.. I am not.. I am

10
CHAPTER

Total Obedience
Most of the episodes occurring with Dada in my life did not
have a logical explanation. I am convinced that through all
these exercises, Dada was preparing me for the spiritual path
which would finally culminate with the Avatar taking over.
It was a routine call to Dada Maharaj, the time was 9:30
pm. I was at my in-laws home and Rashmita was playing with
our daughter.
I dialed Dada’s number and waited for the phone to be
answered. I heard Dada’s wife at the other end.
“You are Raj speaking right? I have been told by Dada to
tell you that you should immediately proceed to see your mother”
and she hung up the phone.
I was quite startled. Seeing my startled expression,
Rashmita asked:
“What happened? No one picked up the phone?”
“Dada’s wife picked up. But I don’t understand how she
knew that it was me on the phone?”
After I told to Rashmita what Dada’s wife had said, she

Raj Salvi 63
replied, “Well, you know that we have to go immediately”
Within 15 minutes of the conversation we were on the road to
Sangli, a city about 300 miles from Mumbai.
For the last 40 years, my mother has been suffering with
schizophrenia. She lives with her stepbrother and his family in
a small village called Digraj, which is 5 km from Sangli, in the
province of Maharashtra. Medical treatment has not helped,
and as we headed to Digraj, all sorts of thoughts flashed through
my mind. Had something terrible happened to her? Was this
going to be the last time I would see her? I was sure Dada had
seen something bad and hence was giving me this opportunity
to see my mother.
As we reached Digraj, we both walked from the bus stop to
my mother’s house.
“This is a surprise” remarked my mother’s brother seeing
us standing in the doorway.
“Is my mother ok?” I asked.
“Why do you ask? Did you hear something was wrong
with her from anyone?” he questioned.

***
My mother spent her life in one corner of the old
dilapidated fortress that had been home to her for the past
40 years. Seeing the living condition of my mother’s family,
one could never imagine what her antecedents had been.
Her family had been Chieftains in King Shivaji’s army
and the title of “Sardar” had been bestowed upon them. Her
ancestors on King Shivaji’s orders had attacked the Moghul

64

I am.. I am not.. I am
Emperor Aurangzeb in the Deccan Plateau. In the darkness
of night, they attacked Aurangzeb’s tents. However, he had
already moved to a different location. This daring deed was
rewarded with the title of “Himmat Bahadur”. The spoils of
this adventure were passed on to them by Shivaji Maharaj.
Unimaginable amounts of gold, diamonds and rubies was
brought back to Digraj. However the sudden recognition
and prosperity had made my mother’s ancestors arrogant
and it is believed that one of her ancestors had ordered a
house servant to be whipped to death for spreading the
family’s secrets. The servant pleaded innocence but his pleas
were ignored. Just before dying he cursed that he would
destroy the entire lineage for this injustice. His spirit still
haunts the fortress today.
The family has gone from riches to rags. They are literally
sitting on top of the entire gold, diamonds, rubies which
was the reward given to them, buried safely below them. It is
believed that the spirit of that servant stops anyone trying to
reach that treasure. But that is another story…….

***
“Raj come here!” my mother called out of the room where
she lives. I saw her sitting there with a faint smile on her face
as if she was part of this entire episode of making me come to
see her.
I suddenly realized that Dada had just tested my total
obedience to the Master. There has to be immediate execution of
his command. It is very akin to a command given to a soldier

Raj Salvi 65
from the commander. The Guru wants total and unshakable
faith and obedience before he takes you as his trainee and shows
you the way to God.

“All over the world, man buries
himself in egoism and
multicolored attachments to the
false, depriving himself of the
intrinsic and self-sustained
happiness that does not wane. He
seeks happiness through the
perishing and transitional, and
invites upon himself the sufferings
of closed consciousness. One must
contact the ocean of unfading bliss
within, and be free of the limiting
duality of “I” and “you,” to unveil
the perennial spring of
imperishable sweetness which is
within each and all”.

66

I am.. I am not.. I am

11
CHAPTER

Sister Act
Work at Business Combine Limited Foundry in Nasik, a
small township about 200 miles northeast of Mumbai, was
hectic. We were the primary factory in India producing
Spheroidal Graphite Iron Castings. We were all proud of the
fact that we were one of the leading companies in India’s that
contributed to its economic progress.
I had been given the opportunity to look after the sales and
engineering development of the castings on an all-India basis.
I was determined to put in maximum effort and do my job to the
best of my ability. My daily routine was to arrive an hour earlier
than my scheduled time, go through all my mail and then
handwrite my replies on paper for each customer. I would
leave the replies attached to the respective letters and leave
them on my secretary’s desk. I would then go off to the shop
floor in the foundry to look at the development aspect of the
castings. I would return back around mid-day to sign the letters.
On one particular day my routine was broken. As I entered
the main office I saw my secretary, sitting alone with her head

Raj Salvi 67
on the typewriter. I walked into my office, surprised at seeing
her at work so early in the morning. I settled down to start
answering my mail.
“May I talk to you now, Sir?” it was my secretary standing
at the door with tears streaming down her cheeks.
She was one of those people who always had a smile on
their face and seeing those tears made me realize something
grave had taken place.
“I want to commit suicide” she softly whispered.
I was immediately alert.
“I want to hand in my resignation” she added.
“Please close the door and sit down.” I said.
As she sat down, I enquired further
“Tell me what the problem is?”
“The problem is my life at home” she answered “Everything
here is fine. In fact, coming to work is the best part of my day”
she said with tears still flowing from her eyes. I have twin
sisters who are younger than me by nearly 15 years. When they
were born my father had a stroke and could not work anymore.
So in order to keep the family going, I stopped going to school
and started to work. Now, both my sisters have grown up and
graduated in Arts and are working in good jobs. They are
prettier than me, and earn more than me, so my mother is always
siding with them in arguments.”
“That’s normal, miss” I interrupted.
“Yes Sir, but recently they have started a new campaign
against me. Whenever we all sit for dinner they take away food
from my plate saying that this is from their earned money. I just

68

I am.. I am not.. I am
can’t take this kind of humiliation any more. It would be better
for everyone if I killed myself rather than go home today and sit
at dinner with all of them.”
“Are there no male members in your house?” I enquired.
“My father is too old and moreover is disabled, and my
brother does not want to get involved” she replied.
“How old is your brother?”
“He’s working with Kirloskar Tractors as an Assistant
Manager” It struck me strange that her brother was mature
enough to handle factory affairs but yet was totally incapable
of running his own home. He was my best option, I decided
after hearing her story. Taking his contact number at the
company, I added “Give me 12 hours to solve this problem. If
after that I do not have solution you are free to do whatever you
wish”.
I was hoping deep in my heart that I would still be able to
see her back at her desk in the morning smiling as usual.
As I opened the door, most of the office staff was gathered
outside my door. The expressions on their faces ranged from
sly insinuations to plain curiosity.
“What’s going on, Mr. Salvi?, “ asked our Personnel
Manager, in a tone of voice that was both crude and offensive.
“Get your mind out of the gutter,” I said. “I was in fact
doing your job!” The other got the message from my tone and
got back to their desks.
“May I speak to Mr. Avinash” I asked the receptionist at
Kirslokar Tractors. She paged him and he came on the phone
by the reception.

Raj Salvi 69
“Avinash speaking.”
“My name is Raj Salvi, I work at Business Combine where
your sister works. In fact, I am her supervisor. I need to meet
you this evening for an urgent matter concerning your sister.
Can we meet at Mazda Restaurant? I will be there for dinner at
8:00pm and will be seated at Table Number 7. Please meet with
without fail.
There was a brief silence on the phone. “I will come” he
said and then abruptly hung up.
That evening I was waiting at Table Number 7 when at
8:00pm sharp, Avinash joined me.
“This morning your sister confided in me that she wants to
commit suicide. She can’t take the situation at home anymore.”
“Look” Avinash interjected, “I have a lot of responsibility
at work, so by the time I come home I want peace and to be left
alone. I eat my dinner, leave the house and come back once
everyone is asleep”
I thought, here was a man who did not understand that
having an old, sick father meant that the responsibilities
naturally passed on to him as the eldest male in the family.
“You cannot run away from the problem” I said “What
about your father?”
“Well he is too old and cannot do anything to control the
three of them” Avinash informed me.
“Can we go now and meet your father?” I asked.
Avinash agreed and after paying the bill at Mazda, we
caught a rickshaw to where the Kale family lived.
Nasik is a place of pilgrimage for the Hindus; the place

70

I am.. I am not.. I am
where the heroes of the epic Ramayan were exiled. There are
several ancient temples along the Godavari River which starts
at the top of Mount Trimbakeshwar. The Kumbh Mela which is
a gathering of the sadhus (religious ascetics) occurs in Nasik
every 15 years. These sadhus bathe in the Godavari River in
thousands during a particular time of the year and day. Several
people even lose their lives in the stampede which occurs.
My secretary’s father was a devout Hindu and looked after
the upkeep of some of these older temples. It was a summer
evening, the river bed was dry, so I asked Avinash if he could
bring his father to the river bed so that we could sit on the
stones and discuss the problem without risking anyone
eavesdropping.
I waited patiently on the rocks for them to come. I could
soon see them coming in the darkness. Avinash was assisting
an old man wearing a dhoti and a white shirt with glasses. The
man could barely walk. I greeted them in the semi darkness, the
nearby streetlights allowing us just enough light to see our
features.
“I am a tired man. I cannot interfere in their fights. No one
listens to me” he was crying loudly, obviously feeling helpless
at seeing his family being torn apart. Avinash watched as his
father wept openly in the cool night air, it was almost 1:00am at
this point.
“That is the very reason I have been pushing Avinash to
take on the responsibility before something terrible occurs in
your family. We have only a few hours to solve this problem” I
tried to impress upon them the urgency of the situation to

Raj Salvi 71
galvanize Avinash to take the matter into his hands and resolve
the situation.
“Sir, I am so happy that you solved the problem last night”
my secretary beamed, as soon as I entered the office at 7:00am
the next day.
“I didn’t solve it. I just met your brother and father. It is they
who have solved it” I replied wanting her to know that it was
her family that had helped her. “So what was the solution?” I
asked, wanting to know quite eager to hear what her brother
had done.
“Avinash came home and woke my sisters and mother and
told them they had to pack their bags and leave the house
immediately” she was bubbling with excitement.
“In the middle of the night?” I asked unable to comprehend
the harsh and sudden decision taken by Avinash.
“They are now staying in a hostel” she concluded.
Later on I crossed the sisters and mother several times in
the city streets. I could see in their eyes as we crossed each other
that they were aware that I had something to do with their
situation.
Several months passed after which the mother and two
daughters came home, apologized for their behavior and things
became happy once again in their household.

“The only Real Renunciation is that
which abandons, in the midst of
worldly duties, all selfish thoughts
and desires.”

72

I am.. I am not.. I am

12
CHAPTER

Three Buses
The burden of running Rashmi Shellcast Foundry at Rabale
village on Thane Belapur Road had taken a toll on my health. I
had already had a minor stroke and was lucky to have escaped
it. Life was extremely difficult with the monetary problems
looming heavily each month.
One day Vijay, my friend who stayed on the 4th floor of our
building, told me that his wife Sarita used to go into a trance
and could see the Goddess, Sai Baba and other spiritual souls.
He had advised me to keep a tray containing a blouse for a sari,
a coconut and other traditionally used items for performing
puja (ritual)to the Gods.
It was one evening when the doorbell rang and I opened it
to find Sarita standing outside as if she were sleepwalking. She
had never entered our house, which was on the ground floor of
the same building. She brushed past me into the house as if I
was not even there. She proceeded into the living room and sat
down in a lotus position, cross-legged on the floor. Her body
was shaking. My wife, realizing what was happening quietly
entered the living room.

Raj Salvi 73
“Raj have you got the tray ready” Vijay asked me as he ran
into our house.
“Yes, I have everything as you said” I replied.
Sitting cross-legged in front of his wife, Vijay asked her if
everything was alright in the room.
“No, I am displeased” said Sarita, her voice very different
from the one I was used to hearing. It was as if something or
someone had taken over her body.
“Raj has no belief in me” she confirmed.
I was shocked, for exactly at that moment, I was thinking
that this was all a drama orchestrated by Vijay.
“There is the Goddess Durga on her tiger in that corner and
Sai Baba is walking in the kitchen”
“What should Raj do to reduce his problem in the factory?”
Vijay asked Sarita.
“He should take a coconut in hand and go around the
factory from the outside three times, and then three times inside
the factory. He should then bring it to his house and move it in
every room and finally break it on an intersection where three
roads meet. He should make sure not to look back at the
coconut.”
“All of this must be done on the next Amavasaya” she added.
Amavasaya in the night when the sky is without a moon.
Suddenly there was a stream of red vermillion powder flowing
out of Sarita’s yellow sari. It was collecting on her lap as she sat
cross-legged. I could see that this was no hoax. Nearly three
handfuls of this powder collected and stopped just as suddenly
as it had started.

74

I am.. I am not.. I am
Sarita seemed to show signs of tiredness as she sat sweating
profusely. My wife had put the blouse and the coconut in Sarita’s
lap, and applied the vermillion powder to her forehead as a
symbolic act of worship. Sarita was locked in the lotus position
with her joints stiff. My wife tried to free Sarita’s legs, but to no
avail.
A half an hour had passed until Sarita was back to her
normal self. She had no recollection of what had just happened.
She was a person who had no belief whatsoever in Gods and
Goddesses. Vijay, on the other hand, was fully into rituals and
worshipped the Goddess with all his heart.
“Amavasya is only two days away Raj,” Vijay remarked.
Two days later, Vijay met me at the factory, and we had
both forgotten about the Amavsaya day. We were busy chatting
in the bus, on the way home when Vijay suddenly remembered
the importance of that particular day. We realized that we only
had approximately 45 minutes left, before nightfall, and we
still had catch a bus to Vashi, catch another one to the factory
on Thane-Belapur Road, then after visiting the factory, catch
another bus back to our house in Konkan Bhavan. On a normal
day, this trip would require 4 hours of travel time. It seemed
impossible, but Vijay insisted we had to try.
We had hardly been at the bus stop for two minutes, when
the first bus came. We got on it and were on our way to Vashi.
The ride took about 15 minutes and once we reached Vashi we
jumped off the bus and pushed ourselves into the waiting bus
for Thane, which would take us to the factory.
The bus was over full as we pushed ourselves inside. The

Raj Salvi 75
bus conductor insisted the man behind us to get off the bus and
he did. The conductor closed the doors and said,
“I have been waiting the last 15 minutes for this fellow to
get off the bus, now I can leave!”
It was unusual that the bus driver was arguing with this
man for 15 minutes and pushed him off the bus but allowed us
to board the bus. It would appear that some divine force was at
work. Once we reached the factory, we took the coconut outside
and inside the factory three times and stood to catch a third bus
to our house in Konkan Bhavan. There was only twenty minutes
left before Amavasya ended.
“This is going to be impossible” Vijay said.
“Well, we never thought we would make it to the factory so
quickly” I replied
“But this bus only comes every half hour, and then there’s
a 15 minute journey. This is why it’s going to be…” before Vijay
could complete his sentence, a car with a driver stopped in
front of us.
“Do you both want a ride to Konkan Bhavan?” the driver
asked.
Without answering we told him to make it as fast as he
could. We had reached our building complex in ten minutes,
and thanked the driver and asked him as we got out
“Where did you want to go?”
“I really don’t know” he said as he began to drive away.
Coconut in one hand, I ran inside my house into every room
and raced to find an intersection where three roads met.
“Come with me Raj, I know where it is” Vijay said as he

76

I am.. I am not.. I am
pointed to the closest intersection.
There was less than a minute left as I smashed the coconut
on the ground of the intersection and did not look back to see
how the coconut broke.
Later Vijay had told me that it was unbelievable, as the
coconut had shattered into nearly a hundred pieces. What
caused it to shatter in that manner was not something I could
comprehend nor did I want to know.
Events in my life changed; the factory was sold and I was
asked by Dada to prepare myself to go to Canada.

“True bliss can come only to one who
would take courage in his hands, and
become free of all attachment to forms
which are nothing but the illusions of
duality. Only then can he get united
with his true Beloved, who is God the
eternal and the abiding truth within all
forms, including his own body”.

Raj Salvi 77

13
CHAPTER

Go Live Like A King
Kumar’s first meeting with Dada Maharaj was a memorable
experience. During the final stages of that meeting, he asked
Dada whether he could also help with his sister’s marriage.
Kumar’s sister was at that time 32 years old and it was
difficult to find a suitable groom for her, especially because of
her age. India had the age old tradition of arranged marriages
where the horoscopes of the boy and girl were matched to
predict a perfect union. She was working at a bank and that
was definitely an additional benefit for anyone thinking of
pursuing marriage with her.
“Not today, first let me deal with your case, and then we
will solve your sister’s case” Dada told Kumar as we were
about to leave.
A few months rolled by and Kumar again raised the
situation of his sister.
“Let’s go meet Dada Maharaj again for my sister’s case”
He and I went to meet Dada at his home at Shivaji Park.
“Raj, you must go and bring Kumar’s sister to me; I need to

78

I am.. I am not.. I am
see her.” Dada told us.
Kumar had described his sister as being very adamant and
she was not an impressionable person who could be easily
convinced to accompany us back to Dada’s house.
“I have an idea Kumar, why don’t we meet your sister along
with both our wives? Perhaps that will put her more at ease” I
suggested.
We decided to meet the next day at a restaurant for breakfast.
“Why not give it a shot,” pleaded Rashmita. “Don’t you
want to get married? Dada will certainly find a solution” she
added After much convincing and cajoling, Kumar’s sister
agreed to come with all of us to meet Dada Maharaj.
“I am happy that you decided to come to see me” Dada
began “I say this because you only have one more chance in
your life now to get married. We are all working on making the
boy ready. You will have to do one thing on your part.” Kumar’s
sister looked a bit apprehensive.
“You have the influence of Mars in your horoscope, which
places hurdles for getting married. In order to reduce this
influence you will have to fast every Tuesday for 26 weeks.”
With this discussion we left Dada’s house. I was in the process
of immigrating to Canada. I spoke to Kumar only a few times
before I left India. He mentioned to me that his sister was fasting
as per Dada Maharaj’s instructions.
It was almost two years later the caller ID on my telephone
flashed an incoming call from Chicago “Do you remember me?”
said a female voice on the other side of the phone.
“I am sorry, I cannot place you” I responded.

Raj Salvi 79
“I am Kumar’s sister” she replied.
“You are calling from Chicago, not Mumbai right?” I
enquired.
“Yes, I got married three months ago to a man from Chicago,
and here I am now”. I wasn’t too surprised to hear what she
said because I had implicit faith in Dada’s words. There is no
question of an error.
“Do you remember he said that we are making the boy?”
she said excitedly.
“Yes, I do remember that conversation”
“Well, my husband was in the process of getting a divorce
from his first wife. I believe it was this process that Dada meant
when he said he was making the boy ready” she explained.
“After his divorce was finalized, he came to India looking to get
remarried. His parents approached mine and we went and met
Dada about this boy” she continued
“Dada told my parents ‘What are you thinking about? This
is the boy we have made for your daughter.’ He told me to go
and live with him like a King. I could not understand what
Dada meant by ‘live like a King’ I thought he made a mistake
and meant ‘live like a Queen’ instead” she said. “Maybe Dada
meant that” I added.
“No, Raj we bought a house in Chicago, and the name of
the street we live on is King Street! Dada was always right.”
The words of Perfect Masters are always in the form of a
riddle. The messages given are hidden between lines and the
answer occurs to you when the event happens.

80

I am.. I am not.. I am

14
CHAPTER

Implicit Faith
I was excited to leave Bombay and go to Canada to start a
new life. This was my first trip abroad. I was also very conscious
that this huge step in my life was for no particular purpose
except to obey the Guru’s orders. I knew no one in Toronto –
that was the doorway to Canada. I knew no one in Toronto
except for a fellow Indian, Prakash Mody who I had met
fleetingly in Bombay. My family was not coming with me. I had
decided to go ahead, secure a job before bringing my family
over. I left Bombay with only $2,000 in my pocket. It was
February 10, 1989 when I landed in the early morning at
Toronto’s Pearson International Airport. Prakash met me at
the airport and dropped me off at the fully furnished one
bedroom apartment in Scarborough as per my request.
The next day I opened the blinds of my apartment on the 8th
floor and saw a blanket of snow for the first time in my life. It
was also bright and sunny, similar to Bombay. I saw a couple
of people walking on the footpath below, all huddled up in
overcoats, ear muffs, woolen caps, and gloves. I stood there

Raj Salvi 81
wondering why anyone would be so overdressed for such a
sunny day. Wearing a half sleeve shirt, I walked into the lounge
to find a few people wearing similar heavy clothing as I had
seen earlier. I wondered if these people realized that it was a
beautiful sunny day. They stared at me as if I was a freak of
nature. I boldly walked past their stares, opened the first of the
double doors and as soon as I pushed the outside door, the cold
breeze cut into my chest, like a hot knife through butter. I jumped
back into the lounge. I hurried back through the lounge with
my head down, not wanting to meet the mocking gazes of all
the people. I reached my room, started the television and on
soon found out that the temperature was -32 degrees Celsius.
“Welcome to Canada” I thought to myself as I dressed myself
like the people in the lounge.
That night as I returned home from searching for a job, I fell
on the ice and literally saw stars as I lay on the sidewalk. As I
lay in the snow, I wondered if I would be able to walk to the
apartment building. I realized I had no medical insurance and
very anxious about medical bills. I was on a very tight budget.
I was not used to working phones which is a luxury in Bombay.
I was lonely and soon racked up a huge telephone bill by talking
to my family in Bombay. A big mistake! I had not anticipated
that finding a job would be so difficult. During the three weeks
I searched for employment, I received rejection after rejection.
Very few companies recruited during winter, I soon found out.
The one activity that I looked forward to during the week
was the weekend lunch at Prakash’s house. I was able to talk to
someone and exchange ideas.

82

I am.. I am not.. I am
“What made you come to Canada?” Prakash asked.
“Well, Dada Maharaj, my Guru that I had told you about,
asked me to go to Canada. So I am here” I explained.
“But you don’t know anyone here, don’t have a job, your
family is back in India. How long do you think you can
manage?” he enquired.
“As long as Dada wants me to” was my reply.
I am certain Prakash thought I was a fool and that I was
brainwashed by Dada.
Getting back to my apartment, I realized that it was difficult
for most people to put all their faith in one person; to jump into
the unknown without any analysis of its consequences. The
relation of a Guru and his disciple is one in which the disciple
executes the orders immediately and implicitly.
As per Dada’s instructions, I had done my work by
applying to potential employers at the foundries. However, I
was running out of funds and if I did not get a job in the next
week, I was going to be evicted from my apartment. The situation
forced me to call Dada Maharaj in India.
“Yes, Raj how are you?” Dada asked as if he had no clue of
my stay so far in Canada.
“I am fine Dada. It’s just that there are no jobs here. I am
trying my best but my Indian qualifications are not recognized
and I am running out of money” I whined. “It’s okay, you are
going to get a job in three days. I know you have $400 in your
pocket and that is enough for this week” As soon as I had put
the phone down, I rang up Prakash and told him the good
news.

Raj Salvi 83
“Now that Dada has told me that I will get a job, I have no
more anxiety” I said I was sure that Prakash was thinking that
living alone was getting to me and that I was heading towards
lunacy. The following three days, I visited potential employers,
only to be rejected by each one of them. It was about 8:00pm on
the third day as I sat on my sofa looking eagerly at the phone.
Was Dada wrong? I had done everything that was required of
me. The phone was my very last hope of getting a job.
At 8:07pm the telephone rang, the voice on the other side
said, “I am Rick Brown, the owner of Brown Foundry. I received
your application for a job and I need someone. I want you to
join us. Where can I fax you the appointment letter?”
I gave Rick the fax number of the building office and once I
had the appointment letter in my hands, I went back to my
apartment and called Prakash.
“You realize that today is the third day since Dada told me
about getting a job?” I asked him.
“Sure” Prakash said expecting to hear news that Dada was
wrong.
“Well, you should leave whatever you are doing and come
here. I have the appointment letter in my hand” Prakash rushed
over to see the letter.“
Your Dada must be God himself” he remarked.
“Now you know why I believe in him. On his orders I have
left everything and proceeded to Canada” I worked at Brown
Foundry for a year; by this time my family had joined me. The
cold was extreme in Ontario, so I decided to move to Vancouver,
British Columbia. “Yes, do go to Vancouver, it is your last stop.

84

I am.. I am not.. I am
But not until I tell you to go” Dada advised as I spoke to him in
Bombay. The telegram arrived a few weeks later from Dada,
giving me the go-ahead to proceed to Vancouver.

“The intellect of most persons is
harnessed by innumerable
wants. Such a life is, from the
spiritual point of view the lowest
type of human existence. The
highest type of human existence
is free from all wants; and it is
characterized by sufficiency or
contentment”.

Raj Salvi 85

15
CHAPTER

How Is Rashmi In
London?
“Hello Salvi” a voice asked my father as he and I walked
down Rajabali Patel Road in Breach Candy, an affluent
neighborhood in Bombay. I recognized the voice; it was my
friend Prakash calling out to my father. I could see the anger
on my father’s face feeling insulted at being addressed in such
a disrespectful manner. “What uncultured friends you have
Raj” he glared at Prakash as he passed him on the road.
Prakash was the son of a businessman who had come to
India after being evicted from Uganda during the regime of Idi
Amin. Many Indians left Uganda with barely the clothes on
their backs. His father had put all his resources together and
started a plastic slipper factory. Prakash was in the ninth grade
when I first met him. He had this strong obsession, almost
bordering on madness, to act in Bollywood films. He would
stroll down roads singing film songs, imagining a camera was
rolling. He would grab an unknown girl on the street and dance
with her. The girl would be mortified and invariably end up

86

I am.. I am not.. I am
crying on the side of the road. I would always tell him to walk
a few feet ahead of me, out of pure embarrassment of his
behavior. I was amazed at his self confidence – Prakash was
about 4’ 2" tall, stocky and weighed around 80 kilograms. At
this young age he had also started to lose his hair.
My father, a senior government officer, had friends who
were influential Bollywood directors. My father set up an
appointment with one of them at my insistence. I accompanied
Prakash to this audition and we became the best of friends. I
noticed another side to Prakash – he was always ready to come
to anyone’s rescue. He always made himself available if
someone required any help. This was a rare quality and one
which I did not see in my other friends.
I remember one instance when Prakash was up to his tricks,
dancing and singing on the streets imitating a famous
Bollywood actor. There was an upscale restaurant called
Sizzler’s on Breach Candy frequented by Bollywood stars.
Hearing the commotion outside, Shashi Kapoor, a famous actor
in those days, came out of the restaurant to see what was
happening. Prakash calmly told him, “You of all people should
not be asking me this question. I am imitating your brother,
Shammi Kapoor” he added. Shammi Kapoor was also a famous
movie star who had perfected the hip gyrations of Elvis Presley.
“Have you met my brother?” Shashi Kapoor asked Prakash. “I
have never met him, but I see him on screen almost every day.”
Prakash replied.
“Come with me in my car, I will take you to him”
I could see the happiness on his face as Prakash sat inside

Raj Salvi 87
the car and sped off with Shashi Kapoor to meet his idol,
Shammi Kapoor. This was probably the best day in his life.
Soon Prakash left for London permanently. The Indians in
Ugandan all held British passports and therefore immigrating
to London was not a problem. He returned to India periodically
– every five years. I had moved residences but he managed to
track me down and we renewed our old ties. He had met several
Bollywood stars in UK and some of them were his close friends
now. He often stayed with Salim Khan, a famous screenwriter,
and I would often visit him there. Soon, Mr. Khan and I became
friends, especially since we both loved to drink.
Prakash was unhappy in UK and was looking to settle
down in life. He was looking for a Bollywood film star to marry.
“Prakash, why are you spending so much money trying to
find a girl here? Why not marry someone in UK of Indian origin?”
I asked him once.
“Raj, you do not know those girls. They are not my type!”
he retorted.
We were having this conversation on way from the airport
when I realized that I should take Prakash to Dada Maharaj. I
was certain that he would know exactly whom Prakash should
marry.
“I have someone who can tell you who your future wife
will be without error” I said.
“Sure, if you say so” Prakash replied wearily after the ten
hour flight from Heathrow to Bombay. It was 7:00 am as I rang
Dada’s doorbell. Before going to Dada’s house, I had instructed
Prakash not to lie to him or use his film dialogues when

88

I am.. I am not.. I am
conversing with Dada.“, Raj, ask your friend to come in” Dada
said as I touched his feet in reverence. Prakash of course just
proceeded to sit on the sofa even before Dada could take his
chair. “Tell me in a jiffy, I have no time for people like you”
Prakash began as soon as Dada sat down. “I have come here
only because Raj brought me here. I have seen many gurus like
you” Hearing these words my heart sank. I wondered if I had
done the right thing to bring Prakash to Dada. I was annoyed at
him for continuing his film dialogues in spite of my request.
“Well, if you have seen so many, then why not see one more?”
Dada replied coolly. “How is Rashmi in London?” Dada asked.
Prakash almost jumped to his feet quite taken aback at the
mention of Rashmi’s name. I could see his eyes fill with tears.
“Do you know Rashmi?” he asked Dada in a softer more
respectful tone.
“Yes, I also know her mother and father. Her father sits in a
corner scared, while her mother shouts like this” Dada imitated
her voice.
“Yes, yes that’s her” Prakash moved around, agitated.
“Listen to me, when you go back to UK, do not even enter her
house. Because the next cup of tea the mother offers you will
have poison in it. Please do this for my sake.” Dada pleaded
with Prakash. “Also, forget the film industry and stick to the
car rental business, you will prosper in this business” Dada
advised Prakash as he got up to bid us goodbye. Out of respect
for the Guru, I bowed down and touched his feet. As I moved
away, I was surprised to see Prakash touch Dada’s feet too. He
had developed a sudden respect for Dada Maharaj. “Is he a

Raj Salvi 89
God?” Prakash asked me as soon as Dada closed the door
behind us.
During my next meeting with Dada, I was advised by him
to stop seeing Prakash and to never bring him to his house. “It
is not that he is bad. It is just that he is at a lower level of
consciousness and if you try to pull him up to yours it will
never happen. He will only pull you down to his level” The
words still ring in my ears. It has been twenty years since my
last meeting with Prakash.

“As long as man remains
ignorant of his divine Self he
may as well be a stone; a man
lives and a stone exists, and
both remain equally ignorant”.

90

I am.. I am not.. I am

16
CHAPTER

Abdul Rehman Baba’s
Invitation
Prior to immigrating to Canada, someone had given me a
book on Satam Maharaj, who was Dada Maharaj’s Guru.
I decided to read this book, which was in Marathi, a local
language of the state of Maharashtra. Even though I was a
local of that state, I was rather weak in the language. I had been
educated in English medium schools run by the Jesuits who
had come as missionaries to India. And also all of us spoke in
English at home therefore my fluency in my own native tongue
was quite rusty. However with great effort, I finished the book.
The book was a biography of Sadguru Satam Maharaj. In it
he spoke of his experiences of living with a Perfect Master –
how their mere presence cleansed your soul. Satam Maharaj
had a Guru named Abdul Rehman Baba. I learned that Baba
had the power to disappear and reappear in his physical body.
He could therefore walk through solid barriers. His general
temperament was fiery and he was known for often hitting his
disciples. The hitting was in fact a blessing in disguise. When

Raj Salvi 91
these Perfect Masters perpetrated this kind of harsh behavior,
they were in fact hastening your spiritual progress.
I learned that Abdul Rehman Baba was buried in a
predominantly Muslim area of Bombay. I decided that on my
next visit to Bombay, I would make it a point to visit the dargah
where the body of Abdul Rehman Baba was buried. I was in
two minds about whether I should discuss my desire to visit
the shrine with Dada Maharaj. I decided that I wouldn’t disturb
Dada for such petty matters – surely he would agree. Within a
few months, I was in Bombay. Prior to leaving Canada, my
Indian friends warned me of the dangers of drinking water in
India.
“This is your first visit to India after staying in Canada for
a year. You must remember that your immune system has
weakened. Do not drink any water except Bisleri bottled water.”
As the living conditions in the Canada are more hygienic than
India, the body’s natural resistance to bacteria had lowered.

Satam Maharaj had a Guru named Abdul Rehman Baba.

92

I am.. I am not.. I am
Thus, visiting tropical countries like India with lower hygienic
standards, the potential for falling sick was very high. I assured
everyone, including Rashmita, that I would take utmost care.
Upon landing at Bombay’s Shivaji Chatrapati International
Airport, I heard the sounds, felt the heat and smelled the familiar
odors of India. A friend who picked me up at the airport had a
large bottle of Bisleri ready for me, and I felt safe knowing I had
water for the next couple of days.
The following day, I caught a taxi to Mohammed Ali Road.
“Can you please tell me how to reach Abdul Rehman Baba’s
dargah?” I asked a passerby in the crowd.
“You see those erected arches? Walk beneath them and the
arches will end at Baba’s dargah. Today is his Uroos* ” he
replied and carried on with his work.
I did exactly what he had told me and found myself
ultimately facing a small structure in front of which there was
a crowd of a couple of hundred people. They were all praying
on the street facing Baba’s tomb. Surprisingly there was no one
inside the tomb.
Thinking that it was all right to enter the dargah, I took
permission from the person who looks after the tomb.
“Remove your footwear and cover your head before you
come inside” he advised. Following his instructions, I entered
the tomb and touched Baba’s tomb with reverence. After all he
was my Guru’s guru, and therefore he was similar to a grand
father’s grave.
* Urus: commemorating the anniversary date of a Muslim Saint who leaves
his body for heavenly abode

Raj Salvi 93
As was the custom in the dargahs of Muslim saints, I asked
the person to cover the tomb with a blanket made of flowers, a
standard custom of Muslim worship.
“Sit down and pray” the caretaker instructed me.
The inside of the Dargah had marble floors, as were the
walls. In the middle of the room was the tomb with the body of
Abdul Rehman Baba. The dargah emitted a strong floral
fragrance coming from several flower woven sheets draping
the tomb. I sat down facing the tomb with my back against one
of the walls. Within a few minutes the caretaker offered me a
glass of water, as is the ritual. I took the cup but suddenly
realized the words of my friends back home “Do not drink any
water except Bisleri.”
What was I to do in this situation? I definitely could not
drink the water. I had to throw it away without the caretaker
seeing me do it. Where could I throw it? There were no plants
around and spilling it on the floor, he would be sure to see it.
Suddenly it dawned on me that I was such an idiot. Here I was
sitting in front of Abdul Rehman Baba’s presence, the one who
had infinite power and I was doubting a glass of water.
“I am drinking whatever you give me. I have faith that you
will look after me” I spoke silently to Baba. Then, without any
hesitation, I drank the glass of water.
After sitting for another couple of minutes, I came out of the
tomb. As soon as I was on the road, the people who were praying
outside surrounded me. I was terrified that I had broken some
religious tenet.
“You are not a Muslim” one said, while another asked

94

I am.. I am not.. I am
“How did you go inside?”
“I asked permission from the caretaker in the tomb” I
answered. “No, I am not a Muslim, I am a Hindu. I have come
from Canada where I read about Baba and have therefore come
to visit his dargah” I was explaining to the crowd, hoping
they would allow me to go on my way.
“Don’t you see that we are all praying from outside? Do
you know that only those whose heart is pure will be allowed
entry into the dargah by Baba today, since it is his Urus. You
are a very fortunate person.”
I thanked Abdul Rehman Baba from the bottom of my heart
for this invitation to be with him on this special day. I never
experienced any ill effects from the tap water that I had in his
tomb.

“Selfishness and lust for power tend to drag man
towards brutality, which he has inherited from
his evolutionary ancestry or acquired during
erroneous searching through his incarnations.
But there is within man the inextinguishable
light of Truth, because he is essentially divine in
origin and being”.

Raj Salvi 95

17
CHAPTER

This Honor Was
For You
I had completed three years in Canada.The year was 1991.
A feeling of seeing Mumbai again crept deeply in my heart.
“I would like to visit Bombay” I spoke to Dada on the phone.
“When are you coming?” Dada enquired.
It was mid July and I thought with the monsoons in full
swing, going now would be a waste of time and money.
“Bring a raincoat, it is raining here in Bombay.” That was
Dada’s way of telling me what I was thinking.
“I’ll probably be coming in December.”
“No. December will be too late” Dada replied.
“When would you like me to come, Dada?” I asked.
“Tomorrow,” Dada was matter-of-fact.
“Okay” I said, without a moment’s hesitation.
“Dada said I have to leave tomorrow” I told Rashmita.
“Well, then you have to leave tomorrow” she answered.
She knew of Dada’s powers and no longer doubted his words.

96

I am.. I am not.. I am
The next day I went to our travel agent and booked my
flight and went to the foundry to tell Ray Nye that I was leaving
for India.
“Sure Raj, but before you leave tell the workers what they
need to do while you are away” Ray said.
As I entered the factory one of the workers called out to me
saying “Raj, can you please tell me why this casting was
rejected?”
The 35 pound casting was on a table which was about
waist high. I turned the casting to observe the other side, when
suddenly it slipped off the table and fell directly onto my left
foot. I was wearing steel toe boots, but it struck the laces. I felt a
shooting pain and watched in horror as my foot started to swell.
“You will have to stay tonight in the hospital while we put
the preliminary plaster on your foot. You have multiple fractures
on your foot and the x-ray also showed previous fracture
marks” the doctor at St. Mount Joseph Hospital advised.
I removed my flight ticket from my pocket and said “Doctor,
I have to be on an airplane to India tonight at all costs.”
“You can’t do that. Without proper treatment, gangrene
will set in by the time you reach India” he warned me.
“You can do whatever you need to medically prop up my
foot. I have to leave for India tonight” I told him stubbornly.
The doctor walked out of my enclosure in the emergency
room and soon returned with two of his colleagues, one of whom
appeared to be the orthopedic expert.
“You have broken your foot near the ankle and if gangrene
sets in by the time you reach India the doctors there will have to

Raj Salvi 97
amputate at the next joint, which is your left knee” the
orthopedic surgeon said.
“I have to go tonight, at any cost. I am ready to take the
consequences even if it means my leg has to be amputated from
the hip.” I replied.
The three doctors probably thought I was crazy. The doctor
who attended me first said that I would have to sign a release
form absolving the hospital from any responsibility in case any
complications arose from my decision.
“I am ready to sign any papers you want me to. I will
certainly not hold any of you responsible”
Having signed the release form, I left the hospital in crutches.
The whole incident had happened so quickly that I did not
have time to inform Rashmita.
“What happened? Your foot looks terrible! Are you still
going?”
“Of course, I have to,” I said.
My foot was swollen, black and blue, and incredibly painful
by the time I landed in Bombay. Hobbling on my crutches I
reached the immigration area to see my friend Vijay looking out
for me.
“Are you crazy coming with a broken foot to Bombay in
this weather?” he hollered above the noise.
“Dada Maharaj asked me to come” I said as we entered the
waiting car. Rashmita’s mother and younger brother live in
Mumbai and I went to their apartment.
The following day, I went to meet Dada at his residence.
“I am happy that you have come. Tomorrow is a very

98

I am.. I am not.. I am
important day. Tomorrow is Guru Purnima (full moon night
when Indians ask for the blessings of their Gurus) and I want
you to come to Chembur where the puja (a Hindu ritual of
showing devotion) is being held. It begins at 10:00 am.”
“Dada, you look so weak. Why don’t you see a doctor? I
know some good ones here since my brother is a doctor”
“You do not know any doctor that can take care of me now”
Dada replied casually.
After Dada passed away, I read in his autobiography that
Perfect Masters sometimes take on the sickness of their devotees
to cure them and in the process harm their own health..
“Dada, can I take your photograph?” I said as I held the
camera.
“No not today, I will be ready on the last day before you go
back to Canada. Don’t forget to bring your camera on that day”
said Dada.
When I reached the venue the next day, I found there were
about 500 people already present. There was a huge portrait of
Satam Maharaj and Dada was doing his Guru’s puja. He then
sat on a sofa. Dada was wearing his favorite cream safari suit.
He positioned himself in the middle of the sofa and relaxed. We
all stood, holding flower garlands in our hands. Nearly five
minutes had passed and no one had taken a step to garland
Dada. I was on crutches as Vijay stood next to me holding the
flowers we had brought for Dada.
“Why doesn’t anyone start the puja?” I whispered to Vijay.
“My foot is hurting just standing”
“Why don’t you start? He has called you from Canada for

Raj Salvi 99
this. He won’t say anything to you” Vijay replied softly.
Hearing these encouraging words, I hobbled to Dada and
said
“May I garland you, Dada?”
“What were you waiting for? Everyone wants to go home,
so start quickly for this honor was for you only” Dada
mentioned softly as I began garlanded him and touched his
feet.
The day I was supposed to go back to Canada, I rushed to
meet Dada. One took the Guru’s blessing before embarking on
the trip back home to family.
“Did you bring your camera?” Dada questioned as I sat
down. He was all dressed up and sat in his favorite chair at
home. After I had taken the pictures, Dada suddenly asked me,
“Do you remember where I first met you, Raj?”
“Sure, at my cousin’s marriage reception in Pune”
“No, I mean the first time I met with you alone. That was
our first meeting” Dada said.
“Oh, at the US Embassy in the early morning” I said.
“Yes” Dada smiled “You must have wondered why I called
you so early? I wanted to see your face. Once I saw you, I knew
I would get my Visa that day” Dada trailed off and suddenly
asked me,
“Are you ready to go to USA?”
“Well, you tell me if I have to go Dada” I said.
“Of course” Dada said, trailing off again. “Raj, yesterday
Satam Maharaj had come and met me. We sat discussing as
you and I doing right now. He asked me to give up all the

100

I am.. I am not.. I am
things in my life at this stage. My wife and my children, and if
I was willing to do that he would give me the power to heal,”
Dada was pensive.
“So what did you tell him, Dada?” I asked.
“I told him not in this lifetime. So he asked me to come
back” Dada finished, adding “You better go now or your bags
will not get packed.”
I touched Dada’s feet and headed back home to Canada.
My foot had healed by then. I did not have to put it in a cast. My
family doctor assured me that there was no permanent damage
to my ankle.

“In the spiritual life there is no
room for compromise”.

Raj Salvi 101

18
CHAPTER

He Is Allah’s Angel
Nye’s Foundry was located in downtown East Side
Vancouver. This foundry was nearly hundred years old and
the city had sort of grown around it. Near the foundry was
Openheimer Park, populated by people addicted to drugs and
the homeless. Adjacent to the factory was a store which sold
electrical goods. At this store, worked a salesman who told me
his name was Moe. During my breaks, I would visit Moe at his
store. Moe was from Fiji and had been in Canada for nearly 15
years, and as such he was my advisor about all things
Canadian.
“What I really don’t understand is why you came to Canada
without any plan or money? You are lucky that you have this
job at Nye’s otherwise things would have been even more
difficult for you and your family” Moe said one day.
“I have a Guru named Dada Maharaj who advised me to
come to Canada and I am here on his directive” I said.
For the next several months I proceeded to discuss the
circumstances which led me to come to Canada. I was sure Moe

102

I am.. I am not.. I am
was finding it quite unbelievable as I told him of the instances
which convinced me that he was a perfect soul and to have full
faith in him.
Nearly a year had passed when one day as I reached Moe’s
counter he said, “Raj, can I speak to your Dada in Bombay?”
“Sure, I have been telling you that it will be an incredible
experience”
“Actually, I have a problem and since you say that he can
tell and see everything, I would like to talk to him today”
“Here is Dada’s number in Bombay. Whatever you discuss
with him or whatever he tells you, do not tell me as it is personal
between you and him” I said.
“But Raj there is a problem” Moe called out as I was leaving
him holding Dada’s number in his hand.”
I retraced my steps and enquired further.
“Well, my name is not Moe” he said and then kept silent.
“Then what is your name?” I enquired naturally.
“My name is Mohammed Suleman. I am a Muslim. Your
Dada is a Hindu. He may not talk to me” Moe said.
“Don’t worry Moe. Just talk to him. Religion does not
matter.” I said as I turned and walked back to the foundry.
“Raj, this is Moe” a voice on the other end of the phone said
as I was awakened at 2:00 am
“Moe, what’s the matter? It’s 2:00 am. We’re going to meet
in the morning as usual. Is it that urgent?” I asked only half
awake.
“I just spoke to your Dada in Bombay. He is Allah’s angel.
In five minutes he told me what I had always prayed to Allah.

Raj Salvi 103
He even told me that the piston rings of my car were damaged.
Raj, my mechanic told me the same thing this evening. How
can a person in Bombay, who has never seen me or my car, tell
me the same thing?” Moe said excitedly.
“I will explain to you tomorrow, Moe. Sleep for now” I said
and went back to sleep myself.
The following morning when I saw Moe, he was grinning
from ear to ear.
“Do you know what happened?” He said not waiting for
an answer from me. He then proceeded to tell me about his
phone conversation from the previous night.
“Raj just gave me your number today” Moe had said to
Dada
“No, you asked him today. He has been telling you about
me for a year now” Dada had replied.Moe looked back at me
and said, “Then he took me on a tour of my new home,
describing each room as if he was walking in my home. I think
that your Dada is a part of God, who is here on Earth. How else
would he know all these things?” Moe asked.
“Dada is a Perfect Master or a Qutub as you would say in
Islam. He has Infinite knowledge and also has the power to see
the ‘Film of Your Life’ as he calls it. He always tells me that he
sees all our lives as clear as you see a television screen. Do you
think you could go wrong if I were to ask you what’s happening
on a television show? In that same manner, Dada cannot go
wrong because he can see it with his own eyes. There is zero
chance of error” I explained.
“I always prayed to Allah to give me someone who would

104

I am.. I am not.. I am
guide me in this life” Moe added. “He has sent your Dada as
His messenger.”
Moe would phone Dada daily to speak to him. One day
when I rang Dada he said,
“Your friend Suleman seems to have gone mad. Tell him
not to waste his money calling me every day. He says I am
Allah’s angel” Dada said laughing.

“The Master is the very source of
purity and to set one’s heart on the
Master is beginning of selfpurification. When the disciple has
whole-hearted devotion for the
Master, he is opening himself for
the reception of the Divine Love
which the Master pours on him: and
all his weaknesses are consumed in
this fire of Divine Love of which he
thus becomes the recipient”.

Raj Salvi 105

19
CHAPTER

You Are My Son
Suleman insisted on talking to Dada everyday and as per
my request, he was no longer discussing with me what
transpired between them. We discussed spirituality and the
incidents that I had experienced. One day, quite out of the blue,
Suleman said to me,
“Raj, why don’t you ask Dada for his power?”
I was quite stunned to hear those words. The thought had
never crossed my mind to ask Dada, my Guru, for anything.
Desires of any kind, whether material or spiritual, are still
desires. The cause of all unhappiness is desires as they are
never-ending. As soon as one is satisfied, you experience
happiness. However, soon after, other desires take the place of
the one that has been satisfied and one experiences
unhappiness again. If one can conquer one’s desires, an entire
lifetime of happiness is within one’s reach.
“Moe, I cannot ask him for that. I don’t even want it. If Dada
wants to give me his power, he will. If not, it is okay with me” I
said. “Moe, why don’t you ask Dada for the power? Especially

106

I am.. I am not.. I am
since you speak to him daily” I added.
“No Raj, I don’t think I am ready” Moe was quite certain
that he would not know what to do with such power if it was
given to him.
A few days later, Dada telephone me and said, “Raj, ask
me whatever you want.”
This was the first time my Guru had called me and not the
other way around. It did not strike me at that time as odd.
“I don’t want anything Dada” I said. I was sure that Dada
had heard the conversation between Moe and me about the
clairvoyant power.
“No, I must give you something today” Dada sounded
adamant.
“Well, Dada if you must, please give me your blessings” I
replied.
“That is always there. After all, you are my son” Dada
replied and hung up.
“My life is complete” I told Rashmita as soon as Dada hung
up.
When a Guru acknowledges his disciple as his son, the
disciple is truly blessed for it shows that the Guru has accepted
the disciple.
Within a few days after this call, I received another call
from Mumbai. It was my friend Vijay. It was December 19, 1991.
“Raj, I have bad news for you. Dada Maharaj is no more
with us. He left for his heavenly abode.” Vijay told me.
The last call from my Guru suddenly made sense. Dada
knew that he had was going to drop his body and wanted to

Raj Salvi 107
give his final acceptance. I knew in my heart that Dada would
always remain with me and therefore I did not feel sad to hear
the news. Dada will always be in my heart, mind and soul.

“The only Real Renunciation
is that which abandons, in the
midst of worldly duties, all
selfish thoughts and desires”.

108

I am.. I am not.. I am

20
CHAPTER

Divine Miracles
‘Divine miracles are generally attributed to Avatars,
Sadgurus, or Realized human beings.’
- Meher Baba…..Lord Meher..p958

It was late-September when I received an email from
Ranjana, my cousin Ranjit’s wife. She knew of my relationship
with Dada Maharaj, having heard of the various situations
regarding Dada. The email indicated that Ranjana had found a
book on a mother’s communications with her deceased son.
The book, was titled “Sounds of Silence” by Nan Umrigar, and
she was wondering if I was interested in reading it.
Within a week I was reading this book at my house in
Vancouver. I found it captivating and read it from beginning to
end in one sitting. I felt after reading this book that Avatar
Meher Baba was God himself.
The book dealt with Karl Umrigar, one of India’s top horse
racing jockeys, dying on April 1979 in a race at the Mahalaxmi
Race Course in Bombay.

Raj Salvi 109
The loss of her son left his mother, Nan, devastated. In an
attempt to get in touch with Karl she began to learn ‘Autowriting’ to communicate with him. During these writings, Karl
indicated that his mother should love Avatar Meher Baba,
whose body was buried in Meherabad, near Ahmadnagar. I
felt a deep desire to go to that place after finishing this book.
“You must read this” I told Rashmita as soon as she
returned from work. Once she had completed the book, Rashmita
insisted that I try out auto writing myself. She tried to convince
me that with the spiritual experience I already had, it would be
easy for me to start doing it myself.
Soon after, on October 10, 2001 at 10:05am to be precise, I
felt someone grab both my arms from behind. I was all alone in
the house as I sat in front of my computer, so it seemed really
strange. I could feel the pressure of the fingers on both arms but
could not see anyone. I was literally pulled out of the chair and
made to sit on the dining table with a pen and a pad of paper.
Suddenly, my hand started to feel a force pushing at the
elbow and it controlled the movements thereon. The first word
was ‘Meherbaba’. Having read about Karl, I asked if it was Karl
communicating.
The second word was again ‘Meherbaba’. I told myself that
it could be Meher Baba himself, and I asked for confirmation.
This time ‘Meherbaba Ashirwad’ was the writing. Ashirwad
means a blessing.
The next word was ‘alcohol’. I realized that Meher Baba
wanted me to stop drinking. I was an alcoholic for the previous
15 years, and often found myself drinking a bottle of rum every

110

I am.. I am not.. I am
day. This was always an issue with my family, who disliked
my behavior when I was drunk. My daughter, Mayura, once
told me “Do you want us to remember you as a drunk when
you are gone?” Even this cryptic remark had no effect on my
drinking.
“Do you want me to leave it?” I asked Meher Baba.
‘Yes’ was the next word written on the page.
That evening when my family came home, I showed them
what had happened that morning.
“So are you going to drink tonight? Mayura asked,
observing that I had not touched the Rum bottle that night.
“What is drinking? I don’t even remember it. It is as if a
chip from my brain was removed and thrown away” I said
without any desire to have a drink that night.
It has been over ten years that I have left alcohol. Not a
single drop of that substance has crossed my lips since that
day.
The following days, there were more writings on a daily
basis. Once when the writings went on for nearly two hours,I
feel asleep and the pen fell from my hand. Apologizing to
Baba, I got the following lines immediately __” Raj go and
take a walk on the seashore”.I burst out into laughter alone at
the dining table,wondering at Baba’s sense of humor. During
one of the days of writings, there was an explosion of the
fragrance of roses in the room as Baba was writing.. It was as
if I had over my head a hundred dozen of roses. I was certain
that God himself was going to materialize. Slowly the
fragrance receded.

Raj Salvi 111

“In spiritual life there is no room for
compromise”.

112

I am.. I am not.. I am

21
CHAPTER

Avatar Meher Baba
Is God
In the spiritual sphere there are many unexplained
phenomena that occur. Some of them defy explanation and are
beyond the realm of human intellect. We may try to find a
logical explanation to the event but we never fully understand
it. Our ego refuses to believe that which our intelligence cannot
understand. When you take a step back, it’s the occurrences of
unusual incidents that strengthen our belief in the existence of
God.
Soon after October 10, 2001 when Avatar Meher Baba started
communicating with me through auto-writing, He wrote one
day that Mr. Railkar should be told to come to His Samadhi. I
was quite taken aback as I was aware that Mr. Railkar was an
ardent devotee of Balaji of Tirupati.
Knowing Mr. Railkar’s personality, I was sure that he
would not go to Baba’s Samadhi in Ahmednagar. Besides, Mr.
Railkar was extremely occupied with people calling him daily
for psychic advice.

Raj Salvi 113
“Vijay, I received a strange message from Baba today” I
said over the phone to Vijay in India. “Baba has written that
Mr. Railkar should come to his Samadhi. Do you think you can
pass this message on to Mr. Railkar?”
“Raj, you know how Mr. Railkar is regarding visiting a
religious place other than Tirupati?”
“All I need you to do
is to give Mr. Railkar
Baba’s

message”

I

replied.
Vijay hesitatingly
agreed to do so.
It was close to six
months before I could
make another trip to
India. I met Vijay and as
soon as he met me he insisted that I contact Mr. Railkar
immediately as he wanted to talk to me urgently and was
impatient to meet me.
“When are you coming to Pune?” Mr. Railkar asked me on
the telephone.
“Tomorrow” I replied.
“Then please come to my house. I need to meet you right
away” he replied.
The next day during the bus ride to Pune, I wondered at the
insistence of Mr. Railkar to meet me..
“I would like to meet Mr. Railkar” I told the receptionist
who booked his appointments.

114

I am.. I am not.. I am
“Do you have an appointment?” she asked me routinely.
“No, Mr. Railkar wants to see me” I said.
She went inside to speak to Mr. Railkar and I was ushered
in to meet him almost immediately much to the chagrin of the
crowd waiting to meet him. These were folks who had made
appointments days in advance to meet Mr. Railkar. And I am
sure they were not pleased to see me taken to Mr. Railkar without
an appointment.
”Close the door behind you” said Mr. Railkar. He stood up
and went inside through a side door. He quickly returned with
his wife, son and daughter.
“You all must meet Raj. He was the one who told me about
Avatar Meher Baba” Mr. Railkar addressed his family. “I must
tell you what happened after Vijay gave me your message. I
told him that I would never visit any other place of pilgrimage
and hung up the phone angrily. In all my life till today, I have
only been to Tirupati. I pay my respects to Balaji of Tirupati
twice a month” he said.
Tirupati is a place of pilgrimage in the south of India, the
home of the Vishnu Temple from ancient times. Millions of
devotees visit Tirupati to pay homage to Vishnu of the Hindu
Godhead Trinity of Brahma, Vishnu and Shiva, The statue of
Tirupati or Vishnu, as He is called in South India, is decked
with a black robe lined with gold strips.
I had expected such a reaction, but was eager for Mr. Railkar
to continue his story.
“Less than a week after Vijay’s call, I found myself with my
entire family standing in line to enter Baba’s Samadhi” he

Raj Salvi 115

paused.
“What made you change your mind Mr. Railkar?” I asked
curiously.
“Raj, I did not change my mind. I had absolutely no
recollection as to how we all reached Meherabad. While waiting
in line, I was praying for forgiveness from Lord Tirupati for I
had no intention of coming to the Samadhi. As I reached the
entrance of the Samadhi, I touched my head to the marble slab
out of respect and there was Meher Baba himself standing erect
in front of me dressed like Lord Tirupati!”
Mr. Railkar continued “Baba said to me ‘He is Vishnu, I am
also Vishnu. It does not matter where you go”.

116

I am.. I am not.. I am
Baba showed his Universal Form to Mr. Railkar reminding
him that God may be worshipped in any form but the ultimate
truth is that God is One.
“I am profoundly moved by what happened that day.” he
added “I would like you to take my son to Baba’s Samadhi. He
has graduated with a degree in Computer Science and he needs
a job”
“Mr. Railkar, there are people lined up outside waiting to
ask you similar questions about their children’s lives,” I replied.
“Yes, I know, but I am nothing and Avatar Meher Baba is
God” Mr. Railkar said.

“If you do wrong, think Baba is doing
wrong. If you get a pain, think it is Baba
having a pain. If you do all this sincerely,
you will know something and forget
yourself and do all for Baba”.

Raj Salvi 117

22
CHAPTER

Of All Games...
‘Of all games I love cricket the most’
- Meher Baba, Lord Meher p5549
“Lets play cricket” my elder brother Dilip would yell in the
evening , when as kids, we returned home from St. Xavier’s
High School situated near Metro Cinema in Bombay. The year
was 1965.
Every evening it was a ritual to play cricket in the back yard
of the bungalow that we lived in near Nariman Point in Bombay.
These are governmental bungalows that were given to high
ranking government officers. As my dad was one, we had the
privilege of living in one of them.
We played cricket with friends from the neighboring
bungalows as well as others. Imaginary wickets were drawn
on the car garage wall with a chalk, so it was always a
controversial decision when it came to getting bowled. The balls
used were tennis balls and it was never clear as to when they
hit the wall wickets and whether one was bowled or not.
We used a method of drawing numbers as to who would
bat. What was normally done was that one of the players would

118

I am.. I am not.. I am
write in a random fashion numbers up to the number of players
who had come to play that evening. He would then cover it
with the bat and draw lines to correspond those number which
were hidden under the bat. Each of the players had to put his
finger on one of the lines and after all the players had chosen
their lines, the bat was lifted showing the numbers each player
had selected.
“We are not going to play” was a common retort when I
had chosen by default the first number to bat. The reason for
this reluctance from other players to play whenever I got the
opening batsman number was that in order that there should
be no controversy in whether I was bowled, I had developed a
batting style of not letting the ball hit anywhere in the area of
the 3 stumps drawn in chalk on the wall behind the batsman.
This had led me to perfect this technique and it made me a
difficult player to get out. I would be able to bat out the remaining
hours of daylight which was available for us to play. Thus the
rest of the players would not get any batting that day. Just
bowling and fielding was not as much fun as batting.
We played cricket in the dry summer season on Oval Maidan
in Bombay. During the cricket matches I would be the wicket
keeper stationed behind the wickets. It was a position which
required constant alertness and agility to every ball bowled.
Just like the opening batsman who faced the new ball and it
required the similar response. Both were specialized positions
that few could accomplish with a high standard of perfection.
Both required the awareness that the team performance
depended on them. The opening batsman had to ensure that

Raj Salvi 119
the innings got off to a flying start and that this meant the other
batsman did not have to worry of a big score. The wicket keeper
had to make sure that the catches were not left for it meant the
bowlers would have to keep working more to get the other team
out. I was in 7th grade when this accident took place. I was the
vice captain, wicket keeper and opening batsman. I had won
the toss and put the opposition team to bat. The first ball of the
match was on the middle and leg stump and as the batsman
came directly in line of my vision of the ball, I was unable to see
it. Out of my intuitive reaction I moved to the leg side of the
batsman to collect the ball, figuring that if he missed the ball the
batsman was out. If it came down the leg side I would collect it.
The batsman lifted his leg and let the ball come straight to me. It
was something I had not figured that the batsman would do.
Before I could react the ball had struck me on the left eyebrow.
There was a noise of my eyeglasses shattering.
“Someone call an ambulance” I heard the yell as I slowly
came out of my temporary blackout.
“I think I am ok” I said, moving my hand to my face. It was
full of blood. I realized that I had been hurt badly and that I may
have lost my eyesight. “Close your eyes” the paramedic was
saying as he bandaged my eyes.
I used to wear glasses from 6th grade and the ball had struck
them and splintered .
“There may be bits of glasses in his eyes” I heard someone
say. ”remove the bandages slowly” he added. As the bandages
were removed, I saw that it was the doctor who was instructing
the nurses.

120

I am.. I am not.. I am
“There, all the pieces are removed from your eyes. You are
lucky that they did not damage your eyes.
You should not be playing cricket with glasses.” the doctor
advised as I left with some stitches in my left eyebrow.
For several years, the fear of the cricket ball kept me away
from this wonderful game . When I joined IIT, I decided to
overcome this fear. I started to keep wickets and be the opening
batsman. Cricket was a game of my passion and I would not be
kept away from it. I represented my department and hostel in
cricket when in IIT.
During my 4 years at Nasik I started a cricket league and
also formed our company team. I was the Vice Captain, wicket
keeper and opening batsman.
‘You will stay at the wicket till the last ball is bowled during
the 50th over” I would tell myself as I took my position at the
wicket. I always wanted to make sure that the team was placed
in a strong position to secure a win! My childhood technique of
not letting the ball hit the wickets stood well in doing the same
in an actual cricket match. I had become a difficult batsman to
get bowled.
I remember in particular a match at HPT against the India
Security Press from Nasik Road.
“We are going to lose today, Raj” I heard Surrinder, my
Captain tell me as we met at the playground.
It was a hot summer day and it was not conditions one
would love to play a game of cricket.
“Why don’t we tell them that we are conceding the match”
I told my captain.

Raj Salvi 121

“Raj, they have a player who plays for the State” he replied
“I am going to win this match alone,” I said
We won the toss and elected to bat, and Surrinder came to
me and said” Raj, pad up. You are opening”
“No I will go when their state player comes to bowl,” I
replied as per my plan of action.
The necessary changes were made in the batting order and
I went to bat as soon as their best player came to bowl. I stood
approximately two feet away from the front batting crease, as I
took my stance to bat.
“You cannot stand there” snapped the opposition wicket
keeper.
“I can stand wherever I want. There is no rule as to where I
have to stand.” I replied with an air of disgust at his intervention.
From the corner of my eye I saw the wicket keeper signal the
bowler to pitch it over my head.
“Don’t worry you will not be able to collect the ball if it
passes me . I am also a wicket keeper” I told their wicket keeper.

122

I am.. I am not.. I am
As I had anticipated their State level bowler was puzzled
at this unexpected occurrence of a batsman standing at the
very spot that he was planning to pitch the ball. I had learned
that he bowled off spinners which needed to be pitched at the
very spot that I was standing in order for them to be effective in
getting me out. The next four balls either went for 4 byes or hit to
the boundary. The bowler stopped bowling after his first over
to me.
As our team came out to field, I was no longer wicket
keeping in this match.
“I will open the bowling today“ I said to Surrinder
“Raj, can you bowl, especially since you have always been
a wicket keeper” was Surrinder’s doubt.
“What difference does it make, you have already written
off the match” I replied and took the new ball from him. As I
held the new cricket ball for the first ball of the innings, I was at
the top of my run-up.
“How do I hold the new ball to bowl “a question arose in
my mind. During my childhood I used to have a hobby of cutting
cricket pictures from magazines and making albums by sticking
them with glue or rice starch. One of the 5000 pictures came in
my mind. One was of Freddy Trueman, the England fast bowler
showing how to grip the first ball of the match.
The first five opposition batsmen were send back to the
pavilion by me. The batsman who represented the state was
dismissed by me on an out swinger bouncer . His catch flew to
point where our HR manager took a brilliant left handed diving
catch.

Raj Salvi 123
“Sir that was test class catch” I yelled as I ran to congratulate
him.
“What do you mean, I have represented India in cricket “he
replied. “However, I have not seen a bowler ,having played in
Australia, West Indies and England, who can put so much fire
and wants to kill the opposing team” he added. He was not
aware of my Captain’s discussion regarding this match.
Although we lost the match eventually, to me it was a victory
of having tried my best and then accepting the result. One has to
strive to do the best and if we still fail, the reason why it happened
so is not our concern. Our duty is to aim for excellence in the work
in front of us. Work in itself is the true worship of God.
After one of the cricket matches in Nasik, wherein I had
done exceptionally well both as wicket keeper and opening
batting ,as I was packing my cricket gear, I heard a voice behind
me say “I saw your wicket keeping and also your opening
batting in this match”. It was a total stranger remarked to me. “I
am a cricket scout for the Indian team and would like you to
attend a test team probable’s camp at Malegaon for 3 months”
he added. I had played in four matches all fifty over’s from the
first ball bowled to the last one of the match. Thus, I had been in
the local Nasik news papers for sometime. I was thrilled at the
option to play for India.
As I told this news to my boss at BCL he replied,”I am sorry,
you cannot go, for you are hired to make metal castings not to
play cricket”. My dreams of playing cricket for India were
shattered at that moment.
In the summer of 2007, I started a cricket club in Burnaby,

124

I am.. I am not.. I am
Canada with the name of IndCan Cricket Club and we have 33
members. During one of the Meher Baba gatherings in
Vancouver, Canada in 2008, a close associate of Meher Baba,
was the chief guest. During his visit to our house he was talking
on how Meher Baba had a deep interest in cricket. He informed
us that Baba was earlier Vice-captain in his school team.
“What position did Meher Baba bat” I asked him.
“Baba was opening batsman and wicket keeper” he replied
and carried on his reminisces of Meher Baba’s life. The role of
Vice Captain seemed akin to the Avatar or Messiah, Who always
expresses His wish to love the Father in Heaven or the Captain
of the Universe. The opening batsman symbolizes the First Soul
in the Creation and the wicket keeper is akin to the Keeper of
the Universe.

The intellect of most persons is harnessed by
innumerable wants. Such a life is, from the
spiritual point of view the lowest type of human
existence. The highest type of human existence is
free from all wants; and it is characterized by
sufficiency or contentment.

Raj Salvi 125

23
CHAPTER

Manifestation Of
Miracles
‘I manifest the infinite powers in the form of miracles, but only
for the spiritual up-liftment and benefit of humanity and all
creatures.’
-Meher Baba,Lord Meher,p4220
What we term as coincidences are only those acts which
are already destined to happen and are planned by the Creator
for a greater purpose that we cannot even fathom in our wildest
imagination. Every incidence is so carefully planned and
executed that only the Almighty in his power can make it
happen so.
The writing with Avatar Meher Baba had proceeded daily
for abut a couple of weeks when suddenly one day He
wrote…”Come to My Samadhi I will wait for you at the entrance” I
questioned in my mind :”How will I recognize you? The
Samadhi is in India where at such places more than 50 people
are found at all times. I was conversant with Shirdi where there

126

I am.. I am not.. I am
are thousands of devotees of Sai baba,at most times.
I will wear a green shirt with red spots was His reply. This
sufficed for my reasoning that I would be able to pick this person
in the melee if required. The next few days that was all that
Baba repeated in His writings. I did not have the slightest
knowledge how and when I would go to His Samadhi in
Ahmadnagar.
My business of importing metal castings for a client in
Seattle was just picking up. The dies were being designed in
Pune and sample lot was supposed to be produced and shipped.
It was already more than two weeks behind schedule. My
constant phone calls were answered with promises and more
promises of sample supplies.
“Raj where are my castings which you had promised two
weeks back?” Mark, who was my client, was phoning from
Seattle. “I am sorry Mark I have not been able to get them as yet
ready” I replied. “Well looks like you have blown the order
from me” Mark was quite straight in confirming’ If I do not get
my castings in another week I will have to find another source”
he concluded.
As I placed the phone back on the cradle my wife Rashmita
remarked” What did Mark say?” I told her verbatim all that
had transpired in my conversation with Mark. “What I would
suggest is that you should go to India and follow it up yourself.
Those people are going to ruin the business before it starts” she
said.
I had shown what Baba had written about coming to His
Samadhi everyday and she had not remarked that I should go

Raj Salvi 127
to India because He was calling. If I had told her that it was His
calling and that I should go she would have said that I was
going to India to have fun. I suddenly realized that Baba had
brought about the result in a different manner. He had made
sure that I would be at His Samadhi in 10 days after His call!!
On November 2001 close to a month after the auto writing
with Avatar Meher Baba had started, I was in India. Landing
in Mumbai, I proceeded the next day to Pune where my cousin
was looking after the manufacturing activity of the castings. I
realized that the work would take longer than one week that
Mark had allotted. I made a quick call to him and informed him
of this situation. He was happy that I had taken the trouble to
go to India to follow up on the work.
He gave me the extra time required in completion of the
sample lot. Again Baba had made the arrangement that would
be of the highest benefit.
“This is what has happened” I told my cousin explaining
him the entire history of how the writings had started and how
Baba was calling to His Samadhi. “Can I ask Baba for some
answers?” my cousin asked me casually.
“Sure, its very simple a process. All He has asked is to take
His name in my mind and apply the pen to the paper and He
takes over my consciousness. Although I know the words and
sentences a few seconds before they appear on the paper, I
cannot change the same by my mind or will. I have to be a
bystander as the pen brings forth the words that had passed
my mind” I informed him of the process.
He asked for a few answers from Baba which were his

128

I am.. I am not.. I am
personal problems for which Baba gave the answers and asked
him to come to His Samadhi too.
Bring flowers and a coconut to My Samadhi” Baba wrote to me
before he stopped.
“Ahmadnagar is only about two and half hours by road
from here. Tomorrow morning we can leave with my wife and
reach by afternoon at Nagar” he remarked. ‘That would be
wonderful” I mentioned.” He has also called you to His
Samadhi and that will be fulfilled too” I said. Early morning
we started off for Ahmadnagar in my cousin’s car. The three of
us which comprised of my cousin, his wife and me were excited
at the prospect of the entire thing. “Would the man in the green
shirt with red spots be there for us to see?” was the primary
question in all our minds. We discussed this issue as we drove
to Ahmadnagar. I had purchased the coconut as He had asked.
It was a hot day in November and as my cousin anticipated we
reached Ahmadnagar by 2PM. “Where can we find Meher
Baba’s Samadhi?” I asked a vendor who was selling fruits on
the road.
“Just follow this road straight for the next 5 kms and you
will see a board on the left which says Meherabad. The Samadhi
is on the opposite side on the top of a hill” he replied.
The country side was barren and a few bullocks were
ploughing the fields. The area seemed parched for rains. The
houses were small flat roofed indicating lack of rains in the
region. As we drove a few kms we found the sign indicating
Meherabad on the left. There seemed a railway line going across
a path which led to a hill on the opposite side. Asking a few

Raj Salvi 129
local villagers of a place called Arangaon we proceeded to a
railway crossing gate which was manned. Luckily the gates
were open and we crossed over to the other side.
A long winding road took us to the top of the hill where the
Samadhi lay. There were clear boards showing the path on the
road. It seemed to be all well managed.
We stopped the car at the sign indicated for car parking
and still could not see the Samadhi anywhere. There was an
arrow indicating the way to the Samadhi. The path was
alongside a stone wall which was at least 10 feet in height.
“I forgot the flowers that Baba had asked” I told my cousin.
I saw a small tree with beautiful yellow flowers in front of a
monumental structure made in stone and having a dome. The
Samadhi! There was no one to be seen; and there was an eerie
silence in the afternoon. Silence, total silence greeted us. I
suddenly realized that along the wall there was a Caucasian
man in a green shirt sitting, legs stretched, and his head resting
on a pillar which was the entrance to a walled area. The man in
the green shirt was waiting at the entrance!!
I must go to the Samadhi first! I thought. Let me pluck some
of these flowers, for if He is God it does not matter which flowers
I bring for all of them are His! I justified as I plucked two yellow
flowers and proceeded to the entrance of the Samadhi.
Inside the Samadhi was Baba’s marble tomb stone with the
engraving “I have come not to teach but to awaken”. The tomb
stone was covered with roses and garlands of flowers put on
thick cloth covers which covered partially the tomb stone. I
placed the two yellow flowers in that lot and touched the coconut

130

I am.. I am not.. I am
to His tomb and bowed down touching my head to the Samadhi.
As I came out and glanced in the direction where the man
in the green shirt was sitting I found to my surprise that there
was no one there. Had I imagined the man? I questioned myself.
“Did you see a man in a green shirt sitting just now next to
the pillar of the entrance there?” I asked my cousin.
“I saw him too” he replied
“I did not see anyone there” remarked his wife
Were both of us imagining things I wondered. There was
another Caucasian person who was handing out the prasad at
the Samadhi. The prasad comprised of a moon crescent shaped
hard candy made of sugar and orange juice.
“Jai Baba!” he remarked as he handed me the Prasad. He
had a brown beard which was long and he looked and sounded
dignified.
“Was there a man in a green shirt sitting there just now?” I
asked him pointing in the direction of the place where I saw
him last.
“He is one of us” he remarked and sat down.
Hardly had he said so, I saw the man in the green shirt
coming up the hill towards the same place he was sitting. I was
now determined to meet and speak to him.
As I came close to him I saw the two large red spots on his
shirt pocket. They were the logo of the clothing company of his
shirt.
“Can I have a picture with you?” I asked him abruptly.
“Why with me, take out with Baba “ he replied pointing to
the Samadhi “I want it with you” I informed him.

Raj Salvi 131
“I will not allow you to do that” he replied Moving towards
my cousin and his wife who were observing from a short
distance I informed them of the reluctance of the green shirt
man to take out a photo with me. The person had already settled
back in the same posture that he was sitting when we first saw
him.
I realized that there were several structures inside the gated
area which could be seen from the Samadhi. I was curious to
see them while I was here.
“Can I go and see those structures” I asked the bearded
gentleman at the Samadhi “Surely you can see them. Ask the
man in the green shirt to show you around” he replied casually.
Back to the green-shirted man! Why not, I thought. Certainly
all he can do is refuse us as he did for the photos.
“Can you show us the structures in this area?” I asked him.
“Of course, I will. Come with me” he replied rising up from
the sitting posture.
“This is where Baba used to stay and have His meals. This
is where he met with outsiders” he said indicating to the flat
wooden bed that had a white sheet on it as if Baba had just
gone out for some time and will be back.
Behind was a black stone wall with white chalk filler in
between and it was angular, not straight!! The wall made me
jump!
It was the same wall that I dreamed often of having seen in
childhood. It was etched in my memory and I could not place
why and where I had seen it before. This was that wall.
We stayed in a place called Malegaon and often my father

132

I am.. I am not.. I am
would go to Pune on his official government work. We had to
pass Ahmadnagar and he had brought me to meet Baba along
with him in 1955. I was just 5 years old! At that age the concept
of a wall is that they were always vertically straight. I had
found that this one was different. It was one side of a water
storage tank. I had not been able to remember Baba but I
remembered the wall behind his sitting place.Baba has his ways
and they are always different and unique!!
As he showed the library and the museum, he said” It’s
over”
“It’s not over” I replied
“What do you mean?” he expressed a little annoyed
“I need a photo with you” I said
“I told you I wont allow it. What is the reason you want this
photo with me?’ He questioned me “There is a reason and hence
I am asking” I added. “I have come from Canada today and this
is my first visit to the Samadhi ”
“Tell me the reason” he reiterated
”I cannot tell you the reason for Baba won’t like it” I
answered
“Well then I am sorry I can’t help you” he was matter of fact
I have done whatever is in my power, Baba, I was pleading
mentally with Baba. I have no other option but to show him the
writings. My decision not to show him the writings was based
on the fact that he was an outsider who might ridicule the
precious writings of Baba that I had taken to the Samadhi.
I opened the book with the writing where it was written of
the green shirt and red spots I was about to show him the page

Raj Salvi 133
when he suddenly grabbed me in a steel band-like hug. I could
not believe what was happening.
Next he was rubbing his face against mine and I was lost
and helpless “Finally Raj you have come to My Samadhi! The
message is simple. It is only Love. Don’t complicate it.” Baba
was speaking through the green shirt man. There was no
American accent as Baba spoke through him.
He then posed for the photographs and once the
photographs were taken, the American accent suddenly
started!
“Look at what is written about the green shirt and red spots
in this book” I told the man in the green shirt.
“Forget your experience. I could actually feel Baba using
my body. This dirt! My life is complete!” he remarked slapping
his right hand on his left wrist.
“Do you know who I am?’ he asked me
“No” I replied
“I am one of the trustees here. I don’t need to come to the
Samadhi these days. In fact my work today is to be at Meherazad
which is 22 kms from here. Today when I got up I felt the urge to
go to the Samadhi and I have been sitting from 9:30 in the
morning till now which is close to 3 in the afternoon! I was
wondering what was happening. I did not have lunch and
here I was sitting alone. Now it all clear !
“Oh about this shirt, twice I removed this shirt thinking I
am not going to wear this shirt today and yet here I am with it”
he added as he started walking away from us towards the
Samadhi.

134

I am.. I am not.. I am
He had no recollection of having taken out the photos!
Was this a coincidence or had Baba having planned it all
and executed it with the total perfection that Only He can do! In
all that happened everyone had benefited. He does everything
for the benefit of all concerned.

What happened yesterday? Nothing. What
will happen tomorrow? Nothing. All happens
now . . . the eternal NOW from the
beginningless beginning to the endless end.

Raj Salvi 135

24
CHAPTER

Aspects of Spiritual Life
To begin with the word “ Spiritual” which is used these
days is hardly understood by most people. As it indicates it
has everything to do with the SPIRIT or the SOUL. When the
Consciousness has exhausted the realm of the PHYSICAL world
migrates into the Soul. Thus all its internal desires of the
Physical world vanish and it attains a peaceful state of Bliss.
This is the state where neither happiness nor sadness is
experienced by the Consciousness. Happiness or sadness are
momentary states whereas when one attains Bliss it is an eternal
state of the Consciousness
Life is an enigma which only a few souls are able to decipher
in a single lifetime. Those souls are already prepared to be on
the Path and reach the glorious destinations of Self Realization
( I AM NOT) and God Realisation(I AM). This is the destined
goal of every soul, but those few are destined to achieve it in
this lifetime. Destiny is thus the Will of God, Who decides the
Path of every soul. My escaping sure death in coming front of
the fast train in Mumbai and realizing that I was saved for a

136
136

I am.. I am not.. I am
higher purpose to serve God. Also the escape from death three
times during my childhood were destined to happen, so my
Consciousness would be used to spread the word of God.
Sacrifice is a primary requirement of working for God. One’s
own happiness has to become secondary when the happiness
of others is in consideration. What it achieves is that ones own
self begins to take second stage and gradually one forgets one’s
own self entirely leading to a state of Bliss, as the desires of the
Self vanish with the vanishing of the Self in its entirety. Thus
the dying of the False Self( Ego) will lead to the Real Self ( God)
living forever in you. These aspects were brought out in the IIT
incidence and also in the arranging of my marriage.
The law of karma operates in our daily lives and marriage
is the karmic package which removes the impressions printed
on our consciousness during our journey through the various
realms of the Gross world like trees, metals, birds etc. The
Sanskaras ( impressions) created on our soul during this journey
have to be removed by experiencing the opposite reactions of
these impressions. Thus the positive impression of any
impression has to be annihilated by the negative impression of
the same impression. A person who has murdered someone in
any lifetime has to experience being murdered by the same
person in another lifetime so that both annihilate the impression
of murder from their souls.
Once the impressions are almost removed completely the
Guru meets the aspirant on the Path( Guru meets his disciple).
As human consciousness we are able to remove only some
impression with our own efforts. The final deep impressions

Raj Salvi 137
are possible to be removed only with the help of a Perfect Master
( Sadguru). It is similar, if you undertake a journey of a 1000
miles in a white shirt, it is bound to be soiled at the end of the
journey. In order to clean one washes this shirt in the home
washers. However some spots are not completely removed in
the home washes. In order to remove these final spots has to
send it to a laundry. When the shirt comes back it is sparkling
white. The Guru is the laundry who removes the final deep
impressions of the soul and makes it clean again to go back
home to God and merge with Him and attain the I AM ( all)
state of Consciousness. My interactions with the Guru and total
obedience to his commands(This honor is for you) made him
accept me as his son ( You are my son).
Life here is temporary and unfortunately most human do
not know the purpose of life itself. The prime purpose of life is
to Love God and as Avatar Meher Baba has said the 1) Loving
others and caring for them indicates you are loving God2)
Being happy in others happiness and sad in others sadness
means you Love God 3) Accepting whatever God does to you
and so on. Life is like a hotel room concept. One occupies the
room for the period one has paid for it and then has to vacate it.
Some other person occupies this room when it is empty. Things
in life which belong to you will one day belong to someone else
when one dies. The period of occupation in case of a hotel room
may be 5 days or 10 days whereas in life it may be in a few
years..70 or 80.
Consciousness evolves on this journey through life and
after meeting the Guru begins its journey homewards stepping

138

I am.. I am not.. I am
up the planes of consciousness ( Kundalini). The seven chakras
in the human body are the planes of consciousness. Upon
reaching the 6 th plane one is able to see God by the use of the
third eye which is the eye of the Soul. This clear vision of the
God head is seen on arriving upon this plane of consciousness.
Having been in the Gross world, for millions of years , the
consciousness has forgotten how it looks. When it sees the face
of God it cannot fathom that it is seeing its own reflection rather
than a separate entity.
I hope you have enjoyed reading this version of the book
and hopefully have gathered some seeds which will germinate
into a tree and finally a forest of Love for others....which is the
only emotion one has to finally have after the elimination of
anger ,greed, hatred, jealousy and lust which are all attached
to the False Self ( IAM). God is Love only and Love only in you,
makes you God ( I AM)!!!

“Spiritual freedom is won by one’s
self for one’s self, through watchful
and unfailing war against the false
self. Those who would be soldiers
in the cause of truth have to help
others not only in launching upon
the thrilling enterprise of attaining
victory over oneself, but also in
every step they take towards
attainment; there is no other way of
sharing their burden”.

Raj Salvi 139

Befitting a fortunate slave carry out
every command of the Master
Without any question of Why
and What
About what you hear from the
Master, never say it is
wrong because my
Dear the fault lies in your
own capacity to understand Him
I am a slave of the Master,
Who has released me
from ignorance,
Whatever my Master does
is for the highest benefit
of all concerned
-Hafiz

Sponsor Documents

Or use your account on DocShare.tips

Hide

Forgot your password?

Or register your new account on DocShare.tips

Hide

Lost your password? Please enter your email address. You will receive a link to create a new password.

Back to log-in

Close